


Window of Opportunity

by tricia_16



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Barebacking, Dean Winchester Has a Panty Kink, Dean/Cas Big Bang, Geeky Dean, Happy Ending, Lifting Kink, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Panty Kink, Praise Kink, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Twink Dean Winchester, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-12 05:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 68,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15988256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricia_16/pseuds/tricia_16
Summary: Dean Winchester is on his own for the first time at 23 after Sam leaves for school. Feeling more alone than he ever has before, Dean finds himself drawn to his window where he can see into the apartment of a hot/weird guy. Each glimpse he gets causes him to like the guy a little bit more, and after forming a strange, one-sided connection with him, he can hardly believe his luck when the hot/weird guy turns out to be the owner of the coffee shop he just started frequenting. Now, if only he could crack the cool and collected shell the hot/weird guy uses in public to reveal the geeky side he’s so used to seeing through the window, everything would be perfect…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot to say, so please strap in.
> 
> First of all, I have to give thanks to [Isis](https://twitter.com/MonarchMish) who provided me with the initial prompt that got this story rolling. It was a lot of fun for me to write, and challenging in ways you'll only understand once you've read it, but none of it would have been possible without her.
> 
> Secondly, I am full of gratitude for my brilliant and hilarious beta [Becky.](https://twitter.com/hello_minky) She is a constant source of support and encouragement for everything I do, and this story (and most of my others) would not be half as good as they are without her. 
> 
> And last but not least, my artist, [ Darklightdandelion.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16150646) There was a lot of mutual fan-girling going on between the two of us when we realized we would be working together, and it was every bit as joyful as I had hoped. She went above and beyond making more pieces than was necessary, brought these characters (and some of their furry friends) to life before my eyes, and I sincerely hope all of you take the time to pour over her art in excruciating detail the way it should be.
> 
> All of that now said and done, dive in, guys! I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and please don't be shy with your comments and kudos <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Oof._ Dean’s back slams into the door frame and his breath leaves him in a rush. He almost drops the mattress from his hands, but just barely manages to keep his grip while he gives Sam a dirty look. “God dammit, Sam, would you watch what you’re doing?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to!” Sam answers immediately, changing the angle to steer him and the mattress  _through_ the doorway instead of into it.

“I’m literally walking backwards. It’s your job  _not_ to slam me into the freaking wall.”

Sam huffs, blowing his stupidly long hair out of his face. “I looked away for _two seconds_ , Dean.”

“Probably can’t see through the damn mop on your head,” Dean grumbles.

“Hard to find good,  _free_ help, isn’t it?” Sam says, not so subtly reminding him that he’s helping Dean move into his new apartment purely out of the kindness of his heart.

Well, it’s probably half because of his Sam-sized heart and half because he feels guilty about leaving him behind to go to university. Dean’s proud of his little brother - much more proud than even Sam knows - but there’s a part of him that’s bitter as fuck that he had to pick a school so far away. Now Dean’s more than halfway to 23 and about to move into a strange apartment and live on his own for the first time in his life, and he isn’t looking forward to it at all. He knows other guys his age would be thrilled to live by themselves, but he’s always enjoyed sharing his space. He likes how he feels less alone in their house just knowing Sam was there somewhere too, even if they weren’t necessarily doing anything together at the time.

But those days are over now.

“Helloooo!? What do you think I’m doing? Here for decoration or something?” Charlie asks from inside the apartment.

Dean grins at his friend over his shoulder. She’s five foot five and thin enough a good gust of wind could probably knock her over, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t tough as nails and that he doesn’t cower when she pins him with the right look. He definitely doesn’t want to get on her bad side right now.

“Nah, Charles. You’re an unpacking machine. Couldn’t do it without you,” he says seriously, looking at the stack of empty boxes in the middle of the kitchen. Sure, he won’t be able to find any of his own stuff for a while, but at least he didn’t have to put everything away himself.

“Just not overly helpful with helping us carry the heavy stuff,” Sam says.

“I think it’s fair we all play to our strengths, Goliath,” Charlie says, shooting Sam an innocent smile. Dean chuckles because Goliath is oddly fitting for how beefed up his brother is right now. Plus, the kid’s as tall as he is already and he’s only 19 years old.

“If only you could code the boxes into moving themselves,” Sam answers.

“Patience, young grasshopper,” Charlie says with a wink. “After today, it’s next on my list. Moving blows.”

Dean’s hit with a sudden wave of appreciation for his friend so strong he can’t help but go over there and wrap his arm around her, pressing a quick kiss to the top of her head. She snuggles into his side and gives him a tight squeeze, knowing him well enough to know he only gets touchy-feely when he really needs it. He’s just so glad he has her. He has no frigging clue what he’d do if he was losing Sam  _and_ Charlie at the same time, and he’s so damn thankful they’re friends.

“Let’s get the mattress the rest of the way in the bedroom, then we’ll get your dresser and that’s it for the big stuff,” Sam says, verbally dragging him away from the comfort of Charlie’s arms.

Charlie gives his ass a friendly pat and says, “Go be strong, sweaty, foul body odor producing brothers. Me and you can curl up on the couch with take out and a chick flick  _after_ you shower.”

Dean frowns and she gives him a meaningful look. He lifts his arm to give his armpit a sniff and makes a face of disgust. She’s right. He’s pretty rank.

“My bad, sorry,” he chuckles.

“Not your fault. I’m just at optimum armpit sniffing level,” she says, tucking a stray strand of wild red hair behind her ear as she bends over to start in on another box.

He and Sam muscle his mattress into the only bedroom in the apartment and onto the boxspring.

“Your bed weighs a ton, Dean,” Sam says.

“Worth it for the memory foam, dude. My second most prized possession.”

“After your car. Believe me, I know. I  _have_ met you before,” Sam says with an amused smile on his face.

Dean’s a simple kinda guy. He likes burgers and pie, his sinfully comfortable bed, his dad’s old 1967 Chevy Impala, chick flicks, cheap beer and smooth whisky, and his makeshift family.

“I come bearing gifts!” another voice calls out from the living room, and both he and Sam exchange a smile as they walk back to greet their friend Jo. Dean’s smile brightens even more when he sees she has two six packs of beer and two boxes of pizza in her hands.

“I think I love you,” Dean says passionately.

“Beer’s cold, too,” she says with an eyebrow wiggle.

“Don’t encourage him,” Sam says, walking over to take the pizza from her hands.

“Thank god your cock blocking days are almost behind us,” Dean says.

“You wish, Winchester,” Jo responds playfully.

He grins at her, loving that the two of them can flirt so openly without having to worry it means anything. They basically grew up together and she’s like their honorary little sister. He’s surrounded by the three people who know him better than anybody, and even though it still sucks that Sam’s leaving, at least he’s still got Jo and Charlie.

He walks over to grab a beer from Jo but Sam snatches it from him before he can pop it open, completely ignoring the way he sputters in indignation.

“Dresser, then beer,” Sam insists.

“Why you gotta be like that, huh?” he gripes.

“Because I know the second you sit down I’m never going to get you up again, and me and Jo are going to end up carrying your dresser up here.”

“Still not seeing what the problem is,” Dean quips, but he ducks when he sees the backhand coming from Jo. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Easy on the abuse, blondie.”

Not surprisingly, Jo doesn’t listen at all, and he’s forcefully pushed out of his apartment by the combined forces of her and Charlie. He’s still laughing when he heads down the stairs. He and Sam grab the dresser from the back of Sam’s truck and start the trek back up to his apartment.

“Next time I move, I’m getting a place with an elevator,” Dean says between labored breaths.

“You know, if you exercised once and a while you wouldn’t be panting like you just ran a marathon after climbing a flight of stairs,” Sam says.

“You work out enough for both of us,” he replies. “And it’s  _three_ flights of stairs, butt munch.”

And what a dick thing for his brother to say in the first place. It’s not like he’s fat or scrawny. He actually does hit the gym often enough that his arms are pretty toned. He  _may_ have a little pudge around his middle but you can only tell when he has his shirt off. And let’s face it - he hates sit ups and crunches with a passion, and he’s never gonna do cardio voluntarily, so he’ll probably always have the pudge and be at least a little bit outta shape. He’s made his peace with it.

“If only it worked that way,” Sam laughs with a shake of his head.

When they walk back through the door holding his dresser, he notices Charlie and Jo both standing and looking out the window. There’s not much of a view since there’s another apartment building right across from him, so he wonders what they’re looking at. He and Sam place the dresser down in his bedroom and he walks over to the girls to satisfy his curiosity.

“What’s so exciting over here?” he asks them.

“Look at the dude in the apartment right there,” Jo says.

Dean scans the apartments across from him. There’s about six he could easily see into thanks to the big portrait windows each apartment has, but only two don’t have curtains or blinds closed. It’s pretty obvious what the girls are looking at when he catches a glimpse of a guy wearing what looks like fuzzy bunny slippers, dressed in white pajama pants and a matching t-shirt with a bunch of little pink...

“Are those... dicks?” Dean asks, squinting to try to see them better.

“That’s what it looks like, right?” Charlie asks, clearly amused.

“Dick pajamas,” Jo laughs.

“Okay,  _what?”_ Sam asks, coming up behind Dean to look for himself. “Yeah, those are definitely dicks.”

“Looks like your kinda guy, Dean,” Charlie says with an elbow to his ribs.

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dean says dryly.

But it actually is pretty funny, and he struggles to hold in his immature laughter. At one in the afternoon on a Saturday, this guy is walking around his apartment watering his plants wearing dick pajamas and bunny slippers. He can’t see his features from here, but it’s easy to see that his dark hair is sticking up in about thirty different ways, and though he can’t be entirely sure, it looks like he’s filling out that t-shirt pretty damn well. Not a bad view to have across from him.

“Who wears dick pajamas?” Charlie asks.

“Somebody who obviously appreciates a good dick,” Dean answers, grinning.

Charlie snorts. “Still gonna have to stay firmly in the no-dick lane.”

“Don’t worry, you’re not missing much anyway. Most of them think they’re much better than they are,” Jo says to Charlie.

Dean huffs with laughter. “You ain’t wrong about that,” he agrees.

“Here’s a crazy idea. Can we maybe eat pizza and  _not_ talk about dicks?” Sam asks, grimacing.

“I am  _so_ on Team Sam right now,” Charlie agrees.

Everybody else moves away from the window towards the pizza after that, but Dean stays at the window for another minute. The dude goes somewhere in his apartment that he can’t see, and comes back into the living room without his watering can and with a black and yellow striped mug that reminds him of a bumblebee. The guy sinks onto his couch, and even from a distance, he can see the way the dude worships what’s gotta be his coffee by the way his shoulders sag with relief at the first sip. Dean grins again, totally relating to the sentiment, before he tears himself away from the window to get some pizza before it’s all gone.

Several hours and more than a few beers later, Sam and Jo are gone and he’s lying on the couch with his head pillowed in Charlie’s lap. The credits of  _The DUFF_ are rolling, and Dean sighs heavily.

“Two hot people go from frenemies to love. How come that shit never happens in real life?” he asks, rolling onto his back to look at her upside down.

“Because real life isn’t a chick flick,” Charlie answers.

“Still.”

“You know if you were in a high school movie you’d be the hot jock who has to give the less popular person a chance, right?” she asks.

Dean scoffs at the comment. He’s got a pretty face, sure, but he’s no jock and he’s never been cool enough to be one of the popular kids. “All I’m sayin’ is it shouldn’t be that hard to meet somebody and get them to actually give a shit about you.”

“Aw, is my wittle Deannie feeling lonely?” Charlie teases.

“Shut up,” he says half-heartedly.

“Seriously though, I thought you swore off both men and women for life after what happened with Bela and Mick?”

Dean groans at the reminder. The threesome that went all kinds of wrong and left him as the odd one out when Bela started fucking the other dude behind his back. Talk about embarrassing.

“I thought we agreed to never mention that again?”

“You’re right - I forgot. Let me rephrase: I thought you swore off men and women for life?” she repeats.

“Guess I’m starting to get over it,” he admits reluctantly.

“It’s been, what, six months? And you haven’t hooked up at all, have you?”

Dean shakes his head. “Wasn’t feeling it until recently.”

“Oooh. Can I find somebody for you this time? Pretty please?” Charlie asks, literally bouncing with her excitement.

Dean chews on his bottom lip as he thinks about it. “Nah. Not yet. You’re my go-to person when I’m there, though.”

“And this time when I tell you somebody’s a catty bitch, you’re going to listen to your brilliant bestie.  _Aren’t you, Dean?_ ” she says harshly.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re a genius,” he answers, smiling up at her.

“Damn ri-ight,” she says, on a broken yawn.

“Sounds like it’s time for you to hit the hay,” Dean comments, sitting up reluctantly.

“I’m pretty comfortable here. I can crash on the couch,” she offers.

He smiles softly at her, knowing that she worries about him being on his own almost as much as he worries about himself. “Gotta stay alone at some point.”

“Doesn’t have to be today, though,” she says.

“I’ll be alright. Had enough beer and enough carrying heavy shit that I should be able to fall asleep easily enough. But thanks, you know. For everything.”

She gets to her feet with a nod, and he follows her to the door where he pulls her in for a hug. He hooks his chin over her head and holds her tight, reminding himself he’s going to be fine.

“I can come back if you need me to. Just say the word, okay?” Charlie says, still in his arms.

“What’d I ever do to deserve you, Charles?”

“Just lucky, I guess,” she teases him, breaking out of his embrace. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Maybe we can do breakfast?”

“Deal. Thanks for all your help today, red.”

“I’d say anytime, but I wouldn’t actually mean it,” she grins. “Moving sucks donkey balls. Night, bud.”

“Night, Charlie.”

He closes and locks the door behind him, barely repressing another sigh. Even with the credits rolling, it’s still too quiet. Sitting in the living room alone seems worse than just going to bed though, so he goes over to flick the TV off. With the room suddenly thrown into shadows, his gaze is drawn to the lights outside the window. Absentmindedly, he wanders over to take a peek in on the weird guy across the way. Dude’s reclined on the couch with the light from a single lamp glowing behind him, with a book propped up on his stomach.

For whatever reason, just seeing the guy seemingly alone in his own apartment makes Dean feel less lonely. Seeing that he’s not the only one at home by himself on a Saturday night makes him feel a hell of a lot better about that, too. He’s pulled away from his thoughts when he sees the guy wipe at his face. A few seconds later he does it again, and when he lies the book down on his stomach to reach for a tissue behind him, he realizes the guy is crying.

He’s assuming he’s crying over the book he’s reading, and damn if that isn’t one of the most endearing things he’s ever seen. He himself has shed more than a few tears over his favorite books (he can never get through Cedric dying in  _The Goblet of Fire_ without getting a little teary no matter how many times he reads it) so he can definitely relate to the guy. He wishes he could see well enough to be able to tell which book the guy is reading, thinking that if it’s good enough to make him cry that he’d probably give it a chance himself, but he can’t see that far. He briefly considers grabbing a pair of binoculars, but he’s stopped first by the knowledge that he has no idea where the hell Charlie would have put them, and secondly when he realizes that’d definitely cross the line from curious to creepy. If he hasn’t already crossed it.

It’s that thought that causes Dean to turn away from the window and wander towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. He sighs unhappily when he walks into his bedroom to see that he didn’t actually put sheets on his bed yet. After twenty minutes of cursing while fighting with the fitted sheet, he plops down on his mattress and burrows under his blankets.

If he closes his eyes, he can pretend he’s back at his old place and Sam’s sleeping down the hall like he always is, and that’s exactly what he does until he falls asleep.

Sunday passes much too fast for Dean’s liking. Jo and Sam join him and Charlie for breakfast, and afterwards they all go back to his old place to help Sam pack up the truck for his ten hour drive to the University of Texas. He’d begged and pleaded to get tomorrow off so he could drive Sam there himself, but since he already had time off for his graduation he just couldn’t swing it. He and Sam both get choked up when they hold each other tight for one last, lingering (but still manly) hug, and he makes sure to tell him he loves him and how proud he is before he lets go entirely.

Sam tells him to shut up in a voice thick with his tears, and to make sure the kid doesn’t cry the whole way there, Dean puts him in a headlock and messes his hair up until Sam escapes and pins him against the truck. He still can’t stop smiling though, because Sam’s hair is a fucking wreck and now Sam looks pissed instead of weepy. The mental image of Sam driving ten hours while slightly annoyed with him is much better than thinking about Sam driving ten hours alone and crying. He calls it a win when Sam drives off with an amused smile and a wave out the window.

Charlie and Jo both wrap him up in their arms when he lets the tears fall after Sam’s out of view, and once he gets his shit together again they lock up the now empty house and leave the keys in the mailbox like the landlord told him to. He’s really gonna miss this place.

The three of them pile into the Impala and take off towards the local Target where they spend  _hours_ buying a bunch of shit for his apartment to replace the stuff he let Sam take with him. He didn’t realize he needed a bunch of stuff until he didn’t have it. Like toilet paper. Thankfully he always keeps a roll in the Impala. (You never know when you need a side of the road pitt stop, and he only had to hear Sam bitch once about wiping his ass with a leaf before he made sure to always have toilet paper in the car.)

By the time they put everything away and he cooks the girls a chicken stir fry for dinner, they both say they need to head home to get ready for the work week, and just like that, he’s left alone again.

As he does the couple of dishes they’d dirtied, he reflects back on his day. It had been as good as he could’ve hoped. Especially considering how much he’s been dreading today. He knows it’s going to take a lot of getting used to being on his own and not having Sam there to keep him company, but he keeps reminding himself that Sammy’s a good kid and it’s good for them both to branch out a little. Sam’s going to be fine, and he can be fine, too.

He  _is_ fine, he repeats to himself.

Maybe if he thinks it enough he’ll start to believe it.

 _Not_ thinking about being lonely makes his mind drift to the weird guy in the apartment across from him again. Remembering how creepy he felt last night when he thought about getting binoculars to look in on the dude, he manages to resist peeking in on him... for a whole ten minutes.

Resisting temptation isn’t exactly his strong suit.

He wanders over and his eyes are immediately drawn to the weird guy’s window. Dude’s folding laundry. He’s got a wicker basket on the floor in front of him and piles of already folded clothes on the coffee table. Looks like he’s got a pile for shirts, a pile for pants, a pile for socks and underwear, and a pile for pajamas. What’s really weird though, is that the guy’s using some kind of board to fold his clothes. One of those things he’s seen employees in clothing stores use to make sure the clothes on display are folded properly.

He had no idea people actually use those in real life. And what the hell? He’s using it to fold his pajama pants... and his boxers? Who  _folds_ boxers? He doesn’t even turn his the right way around before he puts them away. He can’t help but chuckle at the system the guy has going on. It’s like a weirdly synchronized dance of some sort. He’s folded a lot of laundry in his day, but he’s never seen anything like this.

He doesn’t think about it when he leans against the window sill and just watches the guy fold his laundry. The pile in the basket gets smaller and smaller as his precise and rhythmic movements make quick work of his chore. When weird guy’s basket is empty, he gets to his feet and carries each small pile out of the room where Dean can only assume he puts it away before he comes back for the last pile. He notices for the first time the guy’s wearing a pair of sweatpants and a pink t-shirt that has block letters big enough that he can read them easily.  _Real Men Wear Pink._ Dean snorts when he thinks about how he’s got the same shirt in his own dresser.

When the guy’s done putting everything away, he stands in the middle of his living room and indulges in a stretch that causes Dean’s mouth to run a little dry at the flex of muscle obvious even from this distance. The guy really is ripped. When he lifts his arms up over his head, his shirt hitches up to reveal a flash of golden skin, and Dean turns away immediately with a blush on his cheeks.

He may be willing to feel a little creepy watching the guy do weird shit like fold his laundry and water his plants so he doesn’t feel so lonely, but there’s no way he’s gonna let himself be creepy enough to stand at the window and ogle the guy in a sexual way. He’s not a damn peeping Tom, for god’s sake.

Later that night, when he’s working out some tension in the good old fashioned way - with some porn, his hand, and a little bit of lube - he sees that flash of skin behind his eyelids every time he closes them. He listens to the sounds of two guys fucking on his laptop while he imagines a big, strong man with crazy dark hair pinning him down on his bed, and he comes harder than he has in months. He’s not even finished cleaning off his hand when he’s already made the decision to pretend  _that_ never happened.

The only thing Dean loves as much as his brother is his car. It’s killing him to leave her parked in the parking lot this morning, but he’s close enough to work now that it would be absolutely pointless to drive. It’s only a couple of blocks, but he hasn’t made the walk yet so he leaves a half hour before his shift starts just to make sure he has lots of time.

Since he isn’t speeding past for once, he takes the time to scan the little shops on either side of him as he walks. It’s barely been ten minutes when the bank he works at comes into view down the street, and his gaze falls on a little coffee shop he hadn’t noticed before,  _Cup of Life_. He nods in agreement to the shop’s name and decides to pop in to grab a cup of coffee to bring with him to work. He’s already had his two cups, but as far as he’s concerned, there’s no such thing as too much coffee in the morning.

He pulls open the heavy wooden door and is immediately met with a wave of warmth and the delicious smell of coffee and fresh baked goods. Not surprisingly, his mouth waters. He may have eaten a bowl of cereal, but if anything looks as good as it smells, he can find room for more.

He gets into the back of the line and glances up at the chalkboard menu to check out the prices, which are decent for a little place like this, and decides on his brew. As he gets closer to the glass display case full of goodies, he discovers it all looks at least as good as it smells, and decides on an banana chocolate chip muffin to go with his coffee.

When there’s only one person left ahead of him in line, he gets a glimpse of the workers behind the counter and it feels like his heart stops. There’s only one guy working - and he looks all kinds of familiar.

It’s the hair that first jumps out at him - though it’s combed neatly at the moment - but as he watches his fingers deftly work the cash register in front of him, he’s positive. This is the weird guy who lives across from him.

His face immediately turns beet red as he tries not to think about how he’s unexpectedly face to face with the guy who got him in the mood to rub one out last night, but even as embarrassed as he is, he can’t tear his eyes off of him. He’s fucking gorgeous. The personification of tall, dark, and handsome. His barely tamed dark hair is sexy all on its own, but pair it with those wide shoulders, arms so big his biceps are straining the sleeves of his work polo, and a jawline strong enough to make Dean a little weak in the knees - and yeah, the dude’s ticking all of his little boxes.

Then it’s Dean’s turn and the guy pins him with a smile - holy fuck, those are  _really_ pink lips - and his blue eyes are as bright as the damn sky - and he suddenly forgets how to make words come out of his mouth.

“Good morning! Welcome to Cup of Life. What can I get for you?” the guy asks.

“Uh,” is apparently all his brain has the ability to form. And his voice even managed to crack on that one syllable. Seems right.

“First time here?” he asks.

Dean just barely manages to nod as the dude’s deep voice goes straight to dick. Oh god. How is it even fair that a guy’s this ripped, with a face  _that_ pretty  _and_ has a voice like that!? How’s he supposed to play it cool when he’s almost literally swooning over this guy?  _Too gay to function_ comes to mind and he has to try not to laugh at his own stupid brain for being in GIF mode. The guy’s still looking at him expectantly and he realizes he hasn’t answered his question about what he’s ordering yet. Apparently he’s going to stand here like an idiot instead.

“Coffee,” he finally comes out with.

The guy smiles and nods with those too-blue eyes of his glittering with mirth. “That’s a good place to start. Craving something fancy, or do you want to give the house blend a try?”

“House blend is good,” Dean says. Aha! He  _can_ make words.

“Small, medium, or large?”

“Uh, medium. And a banana chocolate chip muffin too, please.”

“Good choice. I promise they  _are_ as good as they smell, by the way,” the guy says, shooting him another smile as he reaches to take one out of the glass case and puts it in a paper bag. He moves with ease, like he’s been doing this forever and is entirely comfortable with himself. Dean never really got that impression from the times he watched him through the window  _(creeper,_  his mind reminds him) but he guesses a dude who wears dick pajamas has gotta be pretty comfortable with himself. “Can I get your name for your order?”

Completely caught off guard, he replies, “Dick.” The guy’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise and Dean winces slightly before recovering with, “That’s what my ex calls me anyway.”

The dude chuckles and scribbles  _Dick_ on his cup. “Not the weirdest thing I’ve written on a cup, believe me.”

“Guess I’ll have to up my game for tomorrow then,” Dean responds with a smile. The guy’s lips quirk and Dean mentally pats himself on the back.  _That’s more like it._

“Gives me something to look forward to,” the guy says. “Today it’s $4.25.”

Dean pulls a five dollar bill from his wallet and hands it to him. The guy passes back his change, and Dean holds his breath in anticipation for the moment their fingers brush, but unfortunately, he doesn’t get the  _zing_ he was expecting. He smiles anyway, reminding himself life isn’t a rom-com, and takes his muffin before he drops the change in the tip jar.

“Have a good day,” the man says, and Dean nods his agreement as he moves down to the end of the counter to wait for his coffee. He adds his cream and sugar to it when it comes and offers the other worker a friendly smile before he walks away. He looks back over his shoulder at the hot guy once more as he leaves the shop but he isn’t watching, so he leaves without saying anything else.

He’s still got a couple minutes before the bank opens, so he plops down in the staff room and pulls his phone out to text Charlie between bites of his muffin.

 **DEAN:**  DUDE!  
**CHARLIE:** All caps before 8:30?  
**DEAN:**  The weird guy in the building across from mine works at this little coffee shop right by the bank!  
**CHARLIE:**  The guy with the dick pajamas?  
**DEAN:**  Yes!  
**CHARLIE:**  ... and that’s exciting?  
**DEAN:**  Dude’s hot af  
**CHARLIE:**  Now I understand the caps. Did you ask him out?  
**DEAN:**  Fuck no. It was like my brain short circuited. It was fucking embarrassing tbh lol  
**CHARLIE:**  Aw, that’s so cute! I love one man.  
**DEAN:**  Me too heh heh  
**CHARLIE:**  You’re going back, right?  
**DEAN:**  Tomorrow morning for sure. Hopefully not being struck stupid will help me to actually form words.  
**DEAN:**  Also, this coffee’s damn good  
**CHARLIE:**  I’m sure it has nothing to do with who made it for you! lol Keep me posted!

With his muffin gone and time sufficiently killed, Dean grabs his cup of coffee and heads out to start his shift. He knows he probably can’t work at a bank forever, but he actually enjoys it. He loves dealing with all the different people who come in. Some are regulars from local businesses that come in to do deposits, some are the elderly people who bring in their bills to pay once a month, and some are the people who only come in to get a new card or cash in another currency. Either way, no two customers are the same and that just means no two days at work are the same.

Today, his day flies by, and soon enough he’s on his way back home. He eyes  _Cup of Life_ on his way by but resists the urge to pop inside. He doesn’t even know if the dude will be there anyway. So he walks the rest of the way home and continues to think about what name he can use tomorrow to be weirder than what he said today. If the pajamas and clothes the guy wears are any indication of how weird he is, then he’s gotta think of something good in order to make an impression.

He walks into his apartment and instantly feels a wave of loneliness crash into him. Sam was almost always home when he got home, and this coming home at the end of the day to an empty house thing is going to take some time to get used to.

Like Sam has a direct link to his brain, Dean’s barely hung his keys on the hook by the door when his phone starts ringing in his pocket.

He’s already grinning when he slides to answer it, “Heyya, Sammy!”

 _“Sam,”_  he corrects, making Dean’s grin widen further.

“That’s what I said,” he lies. “How was the drive?”

“It was fine. Only missed one exit, but it was easy to circle around and find my way back. And there were signs everywhere for school, so finding that was a piece of cake.”

“You settle in and everything?” Dean asks, kicking off his shoes and going over to plop on the couch.

“Yeah, I was pretty beat when I got here so I just carried everything up, threw my comforter on and went right to bed, but this morning after orientation I got everything put away.”

Dean nods along, even knowing Sam can’t see him. “Got your schedule and all that crap? What about your roommate?”

“Hasn’t showed up yet, so it’s just me so far. And yeah, I have my schedule. Everything looks great. I’m really excited!”

“Good job, kid.”

He lets Sam babble on for a while, telling him about his dorm, the professors he met, the cafeteria. The geek even goes on for a few minutes about the library. He sounds happy though, so that makes him happy. When Dean’s stomach starts reminding him it’s time to make himself something to eat, he tells Sam he’ll talk to him tomorrow and ends their call.

He goes to change out of his work clothes and into sweats and a t-shirt so he doesn’t stain any of his good clothes, and heads back into the kitchen. It takes longer than it should to cook himself a plate of nachos because he can’t fucking find anything in his kitchen, but he eventually figures it out, and since nobody’s here to give him shit for eating in front of the TV, he plops his plate and his soda on the coffee table and digs in.

Because of his  _too gay to function_ thought earlier, he puts in _Mean Girls_ and loses himself in the familiar story, lying back and kicking up his feet when he finishes his dinner. The movie isn’t even over when he starts wondering about what’s going on with the weird/hot guy. He does manage to wait until the credits start rolling before he gets up under the mental pretense of putting his plate away and stops by the window on his way back.

Dean grins when he sees the guy watering his plants again. Dude’s not in his coffee house attire anymore, but in tight jeans and a black t-shirt with... something on the front. He waits for him to walk closer to the window, and once he’s there, Dean can see it looks like a cartoon dinosaur. He squints trying to see better and decides that yeah, it’s probably a t-rex. He can’t see what the letters say underneath because he’s too far away, but knowing everything else he’s seen this guy wear outside of work it’s probably something weird. He’d almost be disappointed if it wasn’t.

The more he watches the guy, the more it seems like the dude’s singing, or talking or something. Animatedly, too.

The hand not holding the watering can flails around as he speaks, gesturing for somebody to come closer, and Dean tears his eyes away from him to look at the living room behind him, but there’s nobody in sight. Maybe somebody’s in the kitchen? Would make sense if he had somebody over for dinner or something. Or hell, maybe the guy lives with somebody and he’s just never seen the person before. The thought makes him feel oddly sad. So he keeps watching, waiting to figure out who he’s talking to, but he doesn’t see anybody. He stands there long enough that Netflix starts playing whatever it recommends for him after Mean Girls, but nobody else ever comes into view, despite his gesturing. The guy pauses a couple of times like somebody else is saying something, but then starts up talking again.

Maybe he’s talking to the plants? Or... talking to himself? Dean doesn’t know which one is weirder, but he figures if  _he_ was talking to himself he probably wouldn’t want anybody to watch, so he reluctantly leaves the window and goes back into the kitchen to make himself lunch for tomorrow.

It’s way too fucking quiet in the apartment, so he turns on some music and feels drastically better with something filling the silence. With nothing else better to do after making his lunch, he grabs the first Harry Potter book out of his bedroom and starts a re-read. He can always count on losing track of time once he’s invested in a book, and immersing himself in the Harry Potter universe makes him feel less lonely, too.

It’s almost eleven when he pulls himself away from his book. Like last night, he locks the door and then pads over to the window again. This time, the guy’s sitting on the couch knitting away. He can’t tell what it is that he’s making - it looks like a long strip of yarn from here - but it’s endearing to see a young guy sitting at home (alone?) knitting at eleven o’clock at night. Kinda cute. He only lets himself watch for another minute with a small smile on his face before he goes to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I'm getting a lot of comments from people bummed about being spoiled in the comments. If you don't want spoilers, I suggest you skip the comments :)**


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, he dresses and grooms himself meticulously. He wants the weird/hot guy to notice him as more than just an awkward customer stumbling over his words. He can do better than that. So he puts on a moss green button up that he knows makes his eyes pop (not that he’s got anything on those bright blue eyes), rolls the sleeves up to his elbows and leaves a few buttons undone, not wanting to look so dressed up he’s unapproachable. He debates over adding a dab of cologne, but dismisses the idea when he thinks about how the whole place smells like baking and coffee beans and the guy probably won’t get close enough to smell it on him anyway.

With a final look in the mirror and his lunch in hand, he locks the door behind him and heads off towards _Cup of Life_. The smell hits him again once he opens the door to the coffee shop, and just knowing the coffee and baked goods _are_ as good as they smell makes him like the scent even more than he did yesterday. He feels nervous and antsy as he waits his turn in the line, and finally, with his heart in his throat, he steps up the the counter.

He locks eyes with the hot/weird guy and Dean feels his heart trip in his chest, but this time he was ready for it, so he smiles at the guy and says, “Morning.”

“Good morning! I was wondering if you’d be back today,” the guy responds. _He remembers me_ , Dean thinks excitedly.

“Yeah, I work at the bank on the corner, so this’ll probably be a daily thing now,” Dean explains. “Medium house blend, and another muffin. Your choice this time.”

“Pressure’s on,” the guy says, punching his order into the till and grabbing a bag before he chooses a muffin. “Anything you don’t like?”

Dean’s so busy staring at the guy’s hands again - there’s something mesmerizing about the way the dude moves - he barely registers the question. He takes a second too long to answer, then his brain catches up with his ears and he says, “Nope. I like everything.”

“You and me both,” the guy smiles. “That it for today?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Name for your order?”

The guys’s smiling at him, and he thinks he can see a hint of laughter in his eyes, so he goes with what he had planned. “Batman.”

The guy snorts and nods as he scrawls Batman on his cup before he hands it to the other worker. Dean reaches for his wallet to pull out five dollar bill, and the guy takes it from him with, “I like that better than Dick.”

Dean can’t help the way his own lips quirk, and figures this is a good a time as any to put the, _hey, I’m a little bit gay_ thing out there. He raises his eyebrows playfully and responds, “Can’t relate.”

The guy’s cheeks go a little pink but he laughs as he hands out his change. “Whatever floats your boat. Have a good day, Batman.”

Dean drops his eyes for a brief moment before his smile turns into a shy one, not knowing if he was just turned down or not, and manages to say, “Yeah, you too,” as he drops the change in the tip jar again and walks down to wait for his coffee.

He adds his cream and sugar and is about to walk away when he hears, “Hey, Batman?”

He lifts his head to see the hot guy standing there while the other guy’s over at the cash register. “If you don’t already have plans, maybe you can leave your lunch at home tomorrow and we can grab something to eat here on my lunch break instead?”

Color rushes to his face as his heart starts racing, but he tries to play it cool and bobs his head up and down in reply. “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Noon work for you?” the guy asks.

“Yeah, it’ll be just a few minutes after that since my lunch starts at noon and I gotta walk over, but I’ll be here.”

“Sounds great. Let me know how you like that muffin when you come in tomorrow morning,” he says with a smile, then he walks back over to the cash register leaving Dean standing there like an idiot.

He feels like he floats out of the coffee shop, and once he’s past the front windows, he gives into the urge to do a fist pump in celebration. The hot/weird dude just asked him out on a lunch date! He thought he was going to have to leave him his number somehow, but boom! One comment about liking dick and he got himself a date! This is the best Tuesday ever!

He and Jo have plans to see a movie that night since it’s cheap night at the theater, so it isn’t until nine that he has a chance to peek in on the hot guy across the way. Not that he’d been thinking about it or anything. Sure, his mind may have wandered a time or two about what weird shit the dude might be up to, but it’s normal to be wondering about a guy you have a date with. It’s normal to want to know stuff about the people you’re dating.

Maybe it’s not _entirely_ normal to be learning it through watching the dude in his apartment when he doesn’t know he’s doing it, but he ignores that part of his thought process in favor of moving closer to the window.

The guy’s knitting again, but this time he isn’t making as much progress because there’s a tiny orange ball of fluff with one paw on the guy’s leg, and another paw batting at the yarn dangling from his needles. Hot/weird dude has a cat! Well, it’s gotta be a kitten, actually, because there’s no way a cat is that small if it’s not brand new. He can’t see anything more than a flash of white from where he is, but the way his shoulders are shaking and how he keeps tipping his head back is enough to let him know that hot/weird dude thinks the kitten is hilarious.

He feels like he’d probably be more annoyed than anything if he was trying to do something and a cat kept batting at it, but this guy obviously doesn’t think so. This is the first time Dean’s seen the guy’s body so relaxed outside of work. From what he’s seen so far, he tends to hold himself so stiffly when he’s at home, which is kind of weird considering it would usually be the other way around for most people. The guy seems to move his hands with such sure, precise movements when he’s watering the plants or when he was folding his laundry, but he’s always gotten the impression the dude’s wound just a little bit too tight. Except for right now. Right now, everything about him is screaming contentedness. Dean can’t keep the smile off his face when the guy abandons all pretense of actually knitting and starts holding the yarn up in the air and jiggling it up and down to play with the kitten. Outta nowhere, it hits him that the guy probably wasn’t talking to himself the other day, he was probably talking to his cat. He watches for longer than he should, grinning wide at the antics of the hot/weird guy and the kitten, but finally finds the strength to walk away from the window. He’s already started a strange ritual of looking in on this guy, and if they’re going to date he should really nip it in the bud. The guy’s entitled to his privacy, after all.

The next morning, he puts on his second favorite shirt - a soft pink button up that Charlie always tells him makes him look soft and snuggly - and makes the quick walk to the coffee shop.

The line up is longer than it has been the last few days, but Dean spends his time wisely by checking out the hot/weird guy behind the counter at every opportunity. He _really_ likes how thick the dude’s biceps are in his work uniform polo. When it’s his turn, he greets the guy with a friendly smile.

“Good morning,” the guy says with a nod.

“It is now,” Dean flirts, and the guy’s smile grows.

“You’re right about that. The usual this morning?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

The dude grabs a bag and asks, “How was the muffin yesterday?”

He considers lying, but figures if everything goes well he’ll get to know him well enough eventually to _know_ he was lying. “Shoulda said raisins weren’t my favorite, but other than that, it was okay.”

“So much for liking everything,” the guy responds jokingly, and Dean gives him a sheepish shrug. He selects a muffin and hands it to Dean. “Can’t go wrong with blueberry.”

“I’m totally on board,” Dean agrees.

“Name for the coffee?” hot/weird guy asks next.

“Jimmy Page,” Dean says. The guy looks up but there’s no expression on his face. “Robert Plant?” Dean balks at the still blank expression. “Really? _Really?”_

The guy’s eyes go a little wide and he laughs nervously while he writes Page on the cup. “I get the feeling I just made a grievous error.”

He cannot believe this. Who doesn’t know who Jimmy Page is!? He’s still shaking his head in disbelief when he hands over his money. “At least I know we’ll have something to talk about at lunch,” Dean says.

“Are you going to teach me everything you know?” the guy asks playfully.

Dean’s heart trips in his chest. He licks his lips before he smirks and says, “That’ll take more than a lunch, believe me.”

The guy chuckles as he hands him his change. “At least we have some place to start. I’ll see you at lunch.”

“Can’t wait,” Dean says genuinely.

He waits until he gets to work to put his muffin down so he can text Charlie again.  
  
**DEAN:** HE DOESN’T KNOW WHO JIMMY PAGE IS  
**CHARLIE:** Everybody knows who Jimmy Page is.  
**DEAN:** I’m telling you! Not even when I sweetened the pot with Robert Plant! He was clueless!  
**CHARLIE:** Maybe he listens to techno  
**DEAN:** :|  
**CHARLIE:** Or K-Pop  
**DEAN:** I hate you so much  
**CHARLIE:** Listen, I know you love Led Zeppelin but not everybody listens to the same music as you. Other kinds DO exist.  
**DEAN:** Idk if I can move past it if he doesn’t know Zep  
**CHARLIE:** Don’t even try to tell me Bela knew Led Zeppelin when you met  
**DEAN:** This guy isn’t going to distract me with his rack tho lol  
**CHARLIE:** You’re not wrong, but don’t be gross. He can’t exactly walk around with his dick hanging out lol  
**DEAN:** Which is a shame  
**CHARLIE:** I SAID don’t be gross!!! Just give the guy a chance! There’s more to a person than a nice rack and what music he listens to.  
**DEAN:** Yeah, okay. I’ll call you after work.  
**CHARLIE:** Go get ‘em, tiger!  


As usual, because he’s looking forward to lunch, the morning drags by. He feels like every time he looks at the clock, the minute hand has barely moved. He gets several looks from his coworkers for fidgeting and screwing up deposits until _finally_ it’s lunch time! He takes a minute to use the bathroom and fix his hair, and then he makes the short walk to _Cup of Life_.

He walks through the door and glances behind the counter, but hot/weird guy isn’t back there, so he scans the room instead and sees him sitting at a table. Hot/weird guy waves him over, so he crosses to him and takes the seat across from him.

“Hey,” Dean says, somewhat awkwardly.

“Nice to see you without a counter between us,” the guy responds.

“Now it’s just a table.”

“But I won’t ask for your money this time,” he promises. “How do you feel about BLT sandwiches for lunch?”

Dean nods, “Works for me. Should I go order for us?”

“No, I’m all over it. Watch,” he says, grinning. Dean watches closely while the guy makes eye contact with another worker behind the counter and gives him a nod. The guy behind the counter gives him a thumbs up, and then hot/weird guy says, “See? Friends in high places.”

“Wow, pulling out all the stops, huh?” Dean jokes.

“That’s pretty much all I’ve got, so I hope you’re sufficiently impressed.”

“Hook, line, and sinker,” Dean teases. “Seriously though, thanks for doing that. How much do I owe you?”

Hot/weird guy shakes his head. “Not necessary. I get a good deal here, so it’s cheaper for me to buy it.”

 _Hot/weird guy’s buying his lunch._ That definitely makes this a date, and his smile grows quickly. He ducks his head to try to hide it and mutters his appreciation. “Thanks -” then he stops. He doesn’t know the guy’s name, and this is the perfect opportunity to ask. “Sorry, I never caught your name before.”

The guy quirks an eyebrow. “You think you can tell me three different names in three days, and I’m going to give _my_ name up just like that?”

Dean chuckles lightly. “You never asked for my actual name.”

“Okay, well you tell me yours and I’ll tell you mine,” the guy offers, a challenging note in his voice.

Dean tilts his head questioningly. “Is this a thing we’re doing now?”

“I don’t know, is it?”

“I don’t know. I kinda like coming up with different names for you every morning,” Dean admits.

“Even when I don’t know who you’re talking about?” the guy answers.

Dean holds a hand to his heart like he’s been shot. “That’s still a fresh wound man, be careful,” he says seriously. “Just when I forgot about how you broke me this morning, you bring it back up like it’s no big deal not to know who Jimmy Page _or_ Robert Plant are.”

The guy’s stupidly blue eyes are glittering with laughter, and Dean can hardly believe how freaking adorable this guy is. “Should I pretend like I didn’t already Google them as soon as you left?”

Dean snorts. “Trying to get back in my good books, huh?”

The guy shrugs but nods. “Not very often I meet people who make me laugh right off the bat like you did.”

“Dick jokes do it every time,” Dean says proudly, which just makes the guy huff with laughter again. Dean beams, always pleased with himself when he can make people laugh.

“So I’m assuming you’re a big fan of Led Zeppelin, then?”

“Kind of like a super fan, to be completely honest with you,” Dean says. “I’ve been listening to them since I was a kid. Basically grew up with it.”

“I thought Google said this stuff was released in the 70s? Wait a second, how old are you?” the guy asks, his eyes narrowing.

“Relax, I’m 23. It’s my dad who used to listen to it when I was younger,” he explains. “He got me hooked.”

“Oh, okay. That makes sense. I was thinking that I was probably older than you.”

“Yeah? How old are you?”

The guy laughs. “How old do you think I am?”

“Oh yeah, nothing can possibly go wrong here,” Dean dodges.

The guy laughs again. “What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could insult you so badly you could stuff pubes into my coffee cup every morning,” Dean answers quickly.

The dude tips his head back and a loud laugh rolls out of him. “Why didn’t I think of that before?” he finally responds, wiping mirth away from his eyes.

“Now I’m really not guessing,” Dean says seriously, but the guy laughs again softly.

“I’m 30.”

 _Older man._ “Dammit. I definitely would have guessed younger, too.”

“Too bad you missed your chance. Now you’ll have to find another way to flatter me.”

“Not like it’s hard,” Dean says honestly.

The guy smiles at him fondly. “Well, I’m going to enjoy this since I’m assuming it will only be a few weeks until you start harassing me like the rest of my friends.”

Dean gets stuck on _like the rest of my friends_ and is mentally going back over everything this guy has said to him trying to make sure they’re on the same page here when their food and coffee is delivered. They were just flirting, and pretty openly as far as Dean’s concerned, and the guy paid for his lunch. And who just asks somebody they’ve only talked to twice out for lunch to be friends? Nobody does that. Maybe the hot/weird guy just doesn’t want to be presumptuous by assuming Dean wants to date him, or maybe he wants to get to know him a little better before he tries to make the hop from stranger to date. That’s okay. He can do that.

Hot/weird dude says, “I just ordered the same coffee you get in the morning to go with your sandwich, but if you want, I can get them to bring something cool?”

“No, coffee’s fine, thanks,” Dean says, picking up half of his sandwich. “You remember the orders of all of your customers?” he asks before taking his first bite.

“Not all of them,” he says. “But I’m good with faces, and we do have a lot of regulars.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” Dean says around his bite, thinking of his clients at the bank.

“Which reminds me - you said you work at the bank on the corner. Did you just start working there?”

Dean chews and swallows before answering, “Nope, been there almost three years. Just moved to the neighborhood, though.”

“Ohhh. So you walk to work now, and that’s why you started stopping in?”

“Yeah. Didn’t know what I was missing out on or I would’ve been here earlier,” he says, shooting the guy a little wink.

“I’ll make sure to pass that onto the boss,” he answers, a hint of a smile on his lips.

Something about the way he says it has Dean making an educated guess. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

“Got it in one,” he says.

“Nice,” Dean comments. “So you own the place?”

“I do. I practically lived here for the first few years, but we’re doing well enough now that I get most nights and weekends off.”

“Good thing about working at the bank, too. Straight days, and not too early. What time do you start here in the mornings?”

“Usually seven.”

Dean grimaces. “I don’t know how you do it.”

“I make and drink plenty of excellent coffee to keep me going,” he says.

“Cup of Life.”

“You catch on quickly,” he smiles.

“I understood the meaning behind the name as soon as I saw it. If there’s anything I get, it’s needing a cup of coffee before any words are spoken in the morning.”

“There, see. I knew we’d get along! We just can’t ever talk first thing in the morning.”

“Pretty much the way I prefer it anyway,” Dean says.

“So what moved you into the neighborhood, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Me and my little brother were living together, but he just took off for school on Sunday. Couldn’t afford the old place on my own, so it was time to move,” he explains.

“So you’re living on your own for the first time?” he asks. Dean nods his response. “How’s that going?”

Dean thinks about the times he’s seen this guy be alone in his own apartment and considers telling him how lonely it is and how he doesn’t know if he’ll ever learn to love how empty the apartment feels all the damn time... but the public version of this guy is much more vibrant and easy going than he ever expected, and for some reason, he can’t make himself open up to him yet.

“It’ll take some getting used to, but it’s kinda nice to be able to walk around naked without somebody yelling about brain bleach,” he says, cracking a joke to try to hide how he really feels.

“There are perks,” hot/weird guy agrees.

“You live alone?” Dean asks, as if he doesn’t already know.

“Yes. I spend so much time surrounded by other people during the day that I really crave my solitude by the end of the day.”

Dean literally cannot relate to anything less. “I hope I’m not driving you extra crazy by talking your ear off over lunch today.”

“No, no, not at all. I usually spend my lunch with somebody. I rarely leave the shop during a shift, so friends or family, and sometimes even customers, will come join me for an hour. It’s all part of the day.”

“What kinds of things do you do to unwind at the end of the day when you’ve got your place to yourself, then?” Dean asks.

“I like running,” he answers.

Dean leans in across the table a little, straining his ears to make sure he heard him right. “You like _running?”_

Hot/weird guy nods like that’s a perfectly normal thing to say. “I do. Long distance running. I have a treadmill in my spare room along with some other exercise equipment, but I really prefer running outside when the weather’s nice.”

“Wow, I uh, only run if something’s chasing me. And only if I thought I stood a chance of outrunning it. Otherwise, what’s the point,” Dean says.

The guy cracks up again. “Noted. If I ever see you running, I should start running, too.”

Dean grins, happy the dude didn’t try to lecture him about working out more like Sam does. “That’s pretty much me in a nutshell. The only place I ever walk is to work. I like my car way too much to leave her collecting dust.”

“Her?”

Dean nods. “My Baby’s definitely a lady.” The guy tries and fails to hide his smile. “What’s so funny over there?” Dean asks.

“Nothing,” he says, obviously lying. “You’re just the first person I know who’s assigned a gender to their car.”

“Well, not everybody has a car as as badass as mine.”

“I don’t know anything about cars, but I feel like the polite thing to do is to ask anyway: what kind of car do you have?”

“Black 1967 Chevy Impala. Leather interior. Mint condition.” The guy gives him a blank look and Dean sighs, resigned, and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. “Because I know you don’t know what I’m talking about and it’s important that you do, I’m gonna have to show you a picture.”

“You have photos of your car on your phone?”

“If you had my car, you would, too,” Dean answers with a grin. He finds a picture of him standing in front of his car and passes his phone to the guy. “See?”

He takes a cursory glance at the photo, but Dean can read disinterest when he sees it. _Damn_. That stings. “You’re right. It’s a very nice car,” the guy says, except he’s clearly bullshitting him.

Dean decides to call him on it. “You think it looks just like every other car.”

The guy grins and his nose scrunches up and it might have been the cutest thing he’s ever seen if the guy wasn’t basically giving the cold shoulder to his pride and joy. “That’s not true.” Dean’s heart has one second to soar with hope before the dude shoots it down with, “It’s shinier than most cars.”

“Oh my god, I hate you,” Dean says immediately, which causes the guy to crack up laughing again.

“Let’s try something slightly less likely to make you storm out of here. What’s your favorite food?”

“Easy. Pie,” he says, finishing off his sandwich with a final bite.

“Pie? That’s not food, it’s a dessert!”

Dean stops chewing mid-bite and stares at the guy in disbelief. He doesn’t know anything about Led Zeppelin, he dismissed his car with a glance, and now? _Now_ he’s insulting _pie?_  This is like the date from hell... except the guy’s eyes go a little wide, and he tries to press his really damn pink lips into a line to hide his smile again, and god dammit, why does he have to be so cute?

“I put my foot in my mouth again, didn’t I?” the guy asks.

“Let me just tell you everything you need to know about me in 20 seconds or less so this doesn’t happen again,” Dean says, taking a deep breath. “A perfect day for me would be driving around in my car with my brother in the passenger seat and Zeppelin blaring over the speakers. We’d stop for greasy diner food that would include cheap beer, a burger, and pie for dessert, and then I’d bail on Sam to hit up a bar for a couple of drinks and to find somebody to burn up the sheets with for a night,” he adds with a chuckle. “What about you?”

“A perfect day for me would include the latter, but none of the former. More like... sleeping in, having an entire day to myself at home where I didn’t have to do anything for anybody but myself, go for a long run in the kind of weather where it’s sunny but still not too hot, you know? Then have sushi delivered for dinner and drink several bottles of good wine in the peace and quiet until...”

“The latter?” Dean supplies with a smile, and hot/weird guy nods.

“It almost sounds like the only thing we have in common is liking sex,” he jokes.

Dean chuckles and responds, “And coffee.”

And liking dick, the _Real Guys Wear Pink_ shirt, and crying over good books, but it’s not like he can come right out and _say_ that. Kind of makes this difficult.

“At least we’ll always have that,” the guy says, smiling. “And who knows? Maybe I’ll change my mind about your car once I get to know her.”

“Now _that’s_ more like it,” Dean says enthusiastically.

“I promise to make the appropriate comments so I don’t hurt her feelings.”

“Listen, I know you’re placating me right now, but you really wounded me a couple of minutes ago, so I’m just gonna take it anyway,” Dean says with a smile, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms across his chest.

He can see the guy’s eyes drift down to where they’re crossed before he says, “So you don’t like running, but obviously you work out somewhat, right?”

Dean’s smile grows, more than a little pleased by the guy checking him out and the obvious pick up line. “Mostly upper body stuff, and only so I don’t look like a total twink,” Dean explains.

The guy huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “I’ve heard some people are into that kind of thing.”

Dean raises his eyebrows in surprise. He’s definitely not upset by the implication. “Gee, I had no idea,” he lies, and the guy grins at him.

“I only asked because I was thinking that working out is something else we have in common. Which gym do you go to?”

“Well, I was going to 24 Hour Fitness because it was right by my old apartment, but if I can find something closer I’ll probably switch. Got any recommendations?”

“I go to a local place called World’s Gym, it’s a couple blocks East. I could bring you as my guest sometime if you’d be open to the idea,” he offers.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, surprised. “That’s not gonna cut into your after work solitude?”

“We’d have to do it on a weekend,” he quips.

Dean nods. “Yeah, I only go every now and then, but I’d be down for that.”

“I don’t keep to much of a schedule on the weekends. Can we exchange numbers so I can just text you to see if you’re free when I want to go?”

“I usually spend the weekends with a couple of friends, but if we’re not doing anything, I’m in. Gimme your phone.”

They exchange phones, but then he pauses, not knowing how to enter his name. Hot/weird dude must be having the same thought. Their eyes meet and the guy says, “Last names?”

“I dunno, I kinda liked it when you called me Batman,” he teases. “But I guess that works.” They switch phones back and Dean can’t help but look at the new entry. “Novak, huh?”

“That’s right, Winchester.”

“Still easier than what I’ve been calling you in my head.”

“Oh really? What’s that?”

Dean ducks his head, embarrassed that he can’t tell him. “Nope, can’t do it. Maybe someday.”

“Must be something good if you’re blushing,” Novak teases.

“My cheeks have a mind of their own, don’t worry about them,” Dean lies.

“That explains the freckles then,” Novak says. Dean’s blush deepens at the mention of his freckles and Novak chuckles again. “Now you’re just making this too easy.”

“Don’t be a dick,” Dean says lightly.

“Alright, I’ll take it easy on you for now.”

They’re interrupted when another worker comes over. “Sorry to interrupt, but Brianna just called in sick for her shift this afternoon.”

Novak tips his head back on a sigh. “I’ll be right there, thank you.” Then he turns to Dean. “I’m sorry to bail on you before our hour is up, but duty calls.”

“No big deal, I totally get it,” Dean assures him.

“Thanks for having lunch with me,” Novak says, smiling at him softly. God, he’s so fucking cute.

“Thanks for buying. I had a good time,” Dean says.

“Same,” Novak replies, getting to his feet. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

“You bet. Good luck with the sick thing,” Dean says, also standing.

Generally at the end of a date he’d at least go in for a hug, but seeing as the guy’s at work, he doesn’t know if he should or not. Thankfully Novak gives him another little smile and reaches out to place his hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze before he walks away. Without any other reason to stay, Dean grabs his still half full coffee and goes back to work.

He isn’t even entirely sure how he feels about their lunch. He had fun, but more like the way he has fun with Charlie and Jo than how he usually feels during a date. He spends his afternoon going over and over their conversations in his mind. The guy’s obviously smart considering how quick witted he is, and there’s no denying how attracted Dean is to him. But other than that... he isn’t really his type. Wine and sushi on the perfect day? He could choke down wine if he had to (and he would for the right person) but sushi is way out of his comfort zone, and nowhere _close_ to his perfect day. And don’t even get him started on the running thing.

He freezes in his tracks half way through exchanging American dollars for pesos when he realizes Novak and Sam would probably get along better than _he_ and Novak do. And doesn’t that fucking figure. First time he’s been interested in getting to know somebody since the whole Bela fiasco and instead of finding himself somebody he likes, he found Sam’s future best friend. Who just happens to be the best looking guy he’s laid eyes on in his _life_.

He mopes the whole way home, changes into sweats immediately, and plops face first onto the couch with a loud, drawn out groan. What a fucking bust. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about how he never felt a damn thing when the dude gave his arm a little squeeze. Never feels anything whenever their fingers brush when they exchange money. He enjoyed Novak’s company and definitely liked looking at him, but there was no point during the whole forty minutes where he thought about maybe reaching over to take his hand or even what it would be like to kiss him. It doesn't make any damn sense.

For the first time since he moved in, he doesn’t go look out the window all night.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean dresses down as much as he’s allowed for work on Thursday, which basically means khakis instead of dress pants. But he just isn’t feeling the whole dress to impress thing today. He gives Novak the name Han Solo this morning, and Novak says, “Star Wars, right?”

Dean smiles. “I think I would have died if you didn’t know who that was.”

“I’ve been forced to watch at least one of the movies, but I couldn’t even tell you which one it was,” Novak admits.

“You - you’re telling me you’ve never seen the Star Wars trilogy?” he gapes.

“Aha! Trick question, right? Because I’m pretty sure there’s more than three.”

Dean chuckles. “Take my word for it, the last three don’t count. Though the new one was alright.”

“I heard plenty about that, believe me. I’ll see you tomorrow, Winchester.”

“Han Solo,” Dean corrects with a grin.

So he does still enjoy their interactions, he thinks to himself as he walks to work. He thinks back to what Charlie had said last night when he finally answered her sixth phone call. Maybe he just needs to get to know him better. Charlie had pointed out that Dean thinks Novak and Sam are alike, and there’s nobody Dean would rather spend time with than Sam, so if he can get along with Sam he’s gotta be able to get along with Novak. And like she said, if all else fails, it’s not like it’s a bad thing to have another friend. It might actually be nice to have somebody to hit the gym with every once in a while now that Sam’s gone.

It’s those thoughts that ultimately bring him back to the window before he goes to bed Thursday night. Novak’s in black and blue plaid pajama pants and a t-shirt that looks like it has some sort of crest on the front of it, but it’s hard to tell what it is because the guy’s dancing around the living room with a duster. An actual feather duster. He didn’t even know people actually used those things - and that thought immediately reminds him of the clothes folding apparatus he saw him using before. Apparently, the guy likes weird stuff.

Novak keeps dancing around the room, wiggling his hips with absolutely _no_ finesse whatsoever, and Dean can’t help but smile at the sight. So the guy’s graceful as hell when it comes to his hands and fingers, but his hips are just a rhythmical nightmare. Dean’s smile grows the more Novak’s moves get wilder and he actually thrusts forwards every now and then. He kinda wants to take a video because this shit is hilarious and he’d probably go viral. As Novak dances closer and closer to the window, Dean steps aside, not wanting to risk the chance of Novak catching a glimpse of him staring. Then the crest on his shirt comes into view at the same time the big blue letters on his pants become readable: _Ravenclaw_.

Holy shit, Novak’s a Harry Potter fan! And he’s a Ravenclaw? Dean quickly flips through the characteristics he knows about Ravenclaw house: wit, wisdom, creativity, originality, acceptance. Wit and wisdom definitely fit, and creativity, too, he guesses, since the dude has his own business. But like most people, when he thinks about Ravenclaw, he thinks about Luna Lovegood, and there is _nothing_ similar between Luna and Novak.

Even as he has that thought, Novak spins in a very uncoordinated twirl, and Dean busts out in laughter. Okay, maybe the private version of Novak is a little like Luna after all, dancing all by himself. As Novak starts using the feather duster as a microphone while he wiggles his hips again, Dean wonders what he has to do to get a glimpse of this silly side of him out in public. It’s damn cute. He tears himself away from the window reluctantly, still with a smile on his face and warmth in his chest, and falls asleep that night with a plan to draw the real Novak out of his shell.

Friday morning, Dean’s ready. He strolls into _Cup of Life_ with a smile already tugging at the corners of his mouth. As soon as he walks through the door, though, it’s absolute chaos. Where there’s usually a handful of people in line ahead of him, today there’s at least a dozen, and the line doesn’t seem to be moving as fast as it normally does. Curious, he cranes his neck around the line and sees a hand written sign taped to the _order here_ sign above the cash register that says, “CASH ONLY.” And now it makes sense. The debit/credit machines must be down. He has plenty of firsthand knowledge about how a faulty system can fuck up a day at work, and he’s sure Novak is dealing with more grouchy customers than usual considering how few people actually carry cash these days. He imagines he’d be pretty annoyed if he somehow didn’t see the sign, waited in line, then was told he couldn’t buy anything unless he had cash.

Novak should put a sign on the door, too.

Eventually it’s his turn, and Novak visibly relaxes when he sees it’s him.

“Guess you’re not gonna tell me good morning today, huh?” Dean asks.

“Good and morning do not go together today, no,” Novak says, already reaching for a muffin out of the display case. Not a lot of time for small talk today.

“You got a piece of paper back there I can use? Thought it might help to put a sign on the door about the cash only thing so people can see before they come in.”

Novak freezes for a split second before putting the muffin in the bag. “That’s a great idea, thank you.”

“I have them occasionally,” Dean says with a smile.

Novak grabs a cup and asks, “Name?”

“Lovegood,” Dean answers, grinning.

Novak frowns. “That’s not a name,” he says, but he scribbles it on the cup anyway.

“I think Luna and Xenophilius might disagree with that.”

“It sounds like you just sneezed,” Novak says, taking the cash Dean offers him.

Wow, okay. So Novak’s really going to pretend he doesn’t know anything about Harry Potter. It’s weird as hell, but not something he can exactly call the guy on considering he can’t tell him he’s basically a peeping Tom when it comes to him.

“Right,” Dean finally responds, taking his change and moving down to the end of the counter.

Novak grabs a piece of paper and writes CASH ONLY on it again, sticks a piece of tape to it, and passes it to Dean. “If you could pop that on the door on your way out, you’d be my life saver.”

“I’m all over it,” Dean promises.

“Thanks, Winchester. Really.” Novak’s eyes are soft and Dean smiles reassuringly.

“Anytime.”

“I’ll text you tomorrow,” Novak says over his shoulder as he returns to the line up.

Dean raises his voice to make sure he can be heard from as far away as he is and says, “Hope your day gets better.”

Novak shoots him a truly breathtaking smile and Dean walks out of the shop thinking that smile alone is a good enough reason to try to get to know the guy better. If he could make him smile that way more often, he’s pretty sure it wouldn’t matter how little they have in common. He’s so gorgeous when he smiles like that he could care less if they ever come up for enough air to actually talk...

Friday night is spent playing mini golf with Jo and Charlie and losing spectacularly to both of them, but only because he’s so good they challenged him to play left handed. He thought he might still be able to offer a decent challenge this way, but it turns out he really overestimated himself. It’s okay though, because all three of them laugh so hard at his terrible shots that’s totally worth it. Plus, he gets to pick their brains about Novak.

“I think it’s super sketchy,” Charlie says, immediately putting Dean’s back up.

“It’s _weird_ , but it’s not sketchy. Come on. You’ve never pretended to be ignorant of something to try to look cooler?” Dean asks.

She pins him with a look full of amusement, which is all that more effective considering the green pixelated Minecraft dress she’s wearing to play mini golf. “Does that really sound like something I’d do?”

Dean snorts. “Nah, not at all. How about you, Jo?”

“I’ve done the opposite,” Jo admits. “Pretended to know more about something than I actually do to try to look better, but the other way around? I don’t see how pretending to be dumb would ever make somebody look better.”

“Unless he’s going for bimbo,” Charlie says.

Dean shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so. If he is, he sucks at it, because he still comes across as stupidly smart.”

“And that wouldn’t work on you anyway,” Jo offers.

“Nope.”

“He doesn’t know that though,” Charlie says. “He’s only ever seen you in your fancy work clothes, all dressed to the nines with that pretty face of yours. He’s never seen your inner dork like we have.”

“I prefer nerd, thank you very much,” Dean says, mostly teasing. “And I’m not _that_ nerdy.”

“Dude. Harry Potter, Star Wars, comic books, cosplaying..." Charlie lists.

“Okay, okay, okay. So what’re you saying about Novak?”

“I’m saying that you need to show him how nerdy you really are.”

“Well that’s kinda what I was going for with the Lovegood thing, and he just played stupid.” Jo fails to hide a snort of laughter. “What’s so funny, blondie?”

“Since when do _you_ give up after one shot?”

Dean grins. She’s right. He’s more stubborn than that. “Okay, you’ve got a point. How do you think I show off my inner nerd at the gym, though? Not exactly the ideal environment for nerds.”

“No, you’re right. He’ll probably think you’re even more douchey after seeing the way you peacock at the gym,” Jo says.

“Fuck off,” Dean says lightly, causing Jo to stick her tongue out in reply.

“Seriously though, you should try not to do that,” Charlie agrees. “It’s a huge turn off. But back to being nerdy instead of douchey. What if you wear one of your Harry Potter shirts?”

“And you still have those Gryffindor boxers, right? The band would probably show while you’re working out,” Jo adds.

“But if he already pretended not to know Harry Potter, do you think that’ll work?” he asks.

“Worth a shot,” Jo says.

“And honestly, I know I said it was worth trying to get to know him if you think he’s oh so dreamy, but if he’s gonna lie to you again after you reveal your inner nerd, I think you should probably move on.”

Jo nods her agreement. “I think so too. If he’s going to lie about Harry Potter of all things, who knows what else he’d be willing to lie about?”

That’s what Dean keeps circling back to once he’s back home that night. When he checks the window before he goes to bed, Novak’s either not home or already in bed because all the lights are out.

The next morning, Dean wakes up and stumbles directly to the Keurig as usual. With cup in hand, he walks back to the window and has to blink the sleep out of his eyes. He must still be dreaming. He gives his head a shake, drinks a few more mouthfuls of coffee, but no. This is actually happening.

Novak is standing in the middle of his living room in a full pirate costume. Black pants, big boots, some kind of blouse type shirt thing, a red scarf around his waist and a pirate hat in his hands complete with feather, which is what the little orange fluff ball is currently batting at. He watches while Novak indulges the kitten for a few minutes before he puts the hat on his head and walks out of his apartment like it’s totally normal to be wearing a pirate costume at nine o’clock on a Saturday morning.

A half hour later, Dean’s finished his two cups of coffee and is showered and dressed. It’s dumb to shower just to go to the gym, but he never feels like he’s totally awake until he showers, so he does it anyway. He’s glad, because there’s a text waiting for him when he gets out of the shower.

 **NOVAK:** Are you free to head to the gym this morning?  
**DEAN:** Yeah, I’m good to go when you are.  
**NOVAK:** Meet you there in 20 minutes? I’ll wait for you at the front doors.  
**DEAN:** See you then!

So, dressed in his Deathly Hallows t-shirt, red athletic shorts and his duffel thrown over his shoulder with his change of clothes inside, he leaves for the gym to meet up with Novak. As he pulls into the parking lot he can see Novak already waiting by the door as promised, so he gets out and walks over to meet him.

Novak’s wearing a black pair of the same kind of shorts Dean’s currently in, and an orange shirt with mesh down the sides. Nobody should look that good in orange, but Novak pulls it off, maybe partly because his biceps are on full display due to the cut of the sleeves.

“Hey,” Dean greets him, struggling not to openly ogle the dude.

“Hi,” he responds. “Heard you coming from a block away.”

Dean grins. “Purrs like a big ole cat, doesn’t she?”

“If you say so,” Novak answers with a bit of a laugh. “I will say she has a commanding presence on the road.”

“I’ll take it,” Dean says, walking through the door Novak opens for him. Dean follows him to the reception desk where Novak very carefully hands his membership card over to sign Dean in as his guest.

“Can I get your first and last name?” the teenage girl asks him.

“Uh,” Dean says, flicking his eyes over to Novak.

“Yeah, Winchester, first and last name,” Novak says with a grin.

Dean rolls his eyes at him and leans on the counter conspiratorially towards the girl. He turns on the charm in the form of looking up shyly at her through his eyelashes and biting down on his bottom lip for a second before he speaks. “We kinda have a competition going where we’re not using first names. Can I just whisper it to you so he doesn’t hear?”

The girl flushes deeply right to the tips of her ears, but leans in so he can whisper to her, then backs away slowly with a nod once he does. He gives her a little wink and says, “Thanks sweetheart.”

When he backs away, Novak is shaking his head at him with a fond look on his face. As they move away from the girl, he says, “You enjoyed that, didn’t you?”

“What?” Dean asks, feigning innocence.

“Flirting with that poor girl to get what you wanted.”

“First of all, I take offence to _poor girl_. Like she wouldn’t have liked it if I was flirting with her?”

“Okay, that’s not what I meant. I just meant _poor girl_ because she doesn’t have a shot with you. She didn’t know that, but I know because you said you’re into guys,” Novak says. “Hence, poor girl.”

“Actually, I swing both ways,” Dean says, the response familiar on his lips from the amount of times he’s had to explain it. “Though under 21 is a hard no for me no matter which parts they have.”

Novak laughs. “Well it’s nice to know you do have limits.”

“I wasn’t really flirting with her anyway. Just charming her,” he explains, not wanting him to think he’d actually try to flirt with somebody else while out with him.

“You’re not that charming with me,” Novak comments, holding the door to the change room open for him.

“Yeah well, she isn’t as hot as you are,” Dean says in a teasing tone of voice, though that’s actually exactly why.

“And all this time I thought you were just here for the free gym pass,” Novak teases him back.

“Nah, at least half of it is your pretty face.”

Novak laughs while he searches for an empty locker. Finding one, they both toss their bags inside and Novak locks up before he leads the way to the workout room.

Novak goes over to a spin bike while Dean goes over to one of the free cable bicep bars. He sets it up for an easy start and gets to work. He increases the weight as he goes, and once he gets to where he’s most comfortable without pushing himself too hard, he starts counting off his reps in his head. His eyes wander as he counts, and he feels like his mouth turns to dust when they fall onto Novak on the spin bike.

How the fuck did he never notice how thick the dude’s thighs are? The strong cords of muscles are bad enough as it is, but he keeps rising up into a squat over the seat and then lowering himself back down slowly before starting all over again, and Dean’s mind takes a flying leap into the gutter. As if that’s not more than enough already, Novak’s arms are straining to hold his upper body up on the handlebars, his muscles flexed more than Dean has ever seen them at the coffee shop, and he literally cannot tear his eyes away from him.

He’s all too aware of the blood rushing to pool between his legs and the exact moment that his dick starts to chub up, and there is no damn way he can let that happen at the fucking gym while he’s wearing thin little athletic shorts that aren’t going to hide a damn thing. He closes his eyes, fighting away the image of just how good Novak might look like rising up and falling down on top of _him_ instead of that bike, and turns his head away while he can. Paying more attention to the machine now instead of the borderline pornographic sight behind him, he goes back to counting reps.

Twenty minutes later he switches to work on his triceps instead of his biceps, and his eyes fall on Novak also switching machines. He catches his eye and they exchange a smile while Novak shoots him a thumbs up for his own work out. With Charlie and Jo’s reminders about not _peacocking_ still fresh in his mind, he’s able to resist the urge to show off. Not that he thinks it would have much of an effect on a guy like Novak, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to highlight his attributes to somebody as hot as he is.

Dean’s mind then completely fizzles out as Novak climbs onto a rowing machine. He gets himself settled in and then Dean can’t entirely hold in a soft strangled sound when he gets an eyeful of Novak’s arms and legs working in tandem. And those fucking shoulders. Dean wants to wrap his legs around them with his fingers buried in that dark hair of his _yesterday_. Those pink lips would look so incredible stuffed full of - and jesus fucking christ he’s about to go full wood at the goddamn gym.

This was a terrible mistake.

Thinking desperately of Sam - his go-to boner kill - he immediately feels things start to settle down and mentally praises his brother for his existence. Kid’s gotten him through some tough spots in life, he thinks to himself with a chuckle.

So he can’t look at Novak. It’s just impossible to watch the power and strength this guy possesses without sending Dean into needy bottom mode and that’s not the impression he should be making in the middle of a public gym. He makes a silent deal with himself to only look at him for ten seconds at a time. That way if he starts to feel things going south - literally - he should be able to look away fast enough to get himself back under control.

And that seems to work. He and Novak exchange smiles and have a few silent conversations between them about people around them - one girl who’s making chugging sounds like a train on the treadmill who gets poorly muffled laughter from both of them, and one who’s obviously using the excuse of learning how to work out to monopolize the time of one of the workers who gets an eye roll from Dean - and he feels like he’s actually enjoying himself. It’s kind of like working out with Sam, other than the whole recurring boner problem. Everything is going just peachy until he feels a broad hand on his shoulder and looks over to see Novak standing there.

His hair is damp with sweat, his face is shining with it and red with exertion, and a stray drop slowly slides down his temple and over his cheek. Dean’s eyes track the movement greedily, unable to stop himself from thinking about how he would kiss the saltiness away if he was sweating under other circumstances, when Novak’s voice brings him back to himself.

“Since I usually come alone I can almost never do this, but can you spot me on the bench press?” And there goes that traitorous mind of his again. Novak flat on his back with his legs spread, arms straining and muscles rippling while he proves just how strong he is... “We can take turns switching if you want?”

He very nearly embarrasses himself with another little whimper at the word _switching_ , but he clears his throat instead and nods. “Yeah, I can spot you.”

What else is he going say? _Sorry man, my dick’s sixteen all over again and I don’t know how to watch you without getting a stiffy._

Then he practically has to scrape his jaw off of the floor when he sees Novak set the weights for one hundred and fifty pounds

“Are you serious?” Dean asks.

Novak lifts an eyebrow. “Most men can press at least their own body weight. Don’t you?”

“Uh, no,” Dean says honestly. “This is more Sammy’s kinda thing than mine.”

Novak gives him an assessing look. “Can you lift it off of me if I drop it?”

Dean snorts, trying not to look insulted that he even has to ask that. “Yes.” Probably.

“You look like you can, don’t get me wrong, but it would be incredibly stupid of me to wait to ask until it was too late,” he says, getting into position on the bench.

“Fair enough,” Dean responds. “You want a lift off?”

“Not with this. Maybe when I add more,” he says.

“How many reps are you going for?”

“Let’s start with eight,” Novak answers. Dean nods and watches carefully as Novak’s fingers take position on the bar.

Dean damn near swoons when he lifts it like it’s light as a feather.

 _Shit._ He’s sweating for an entirely new reason now.

“Let’s add another twenty,” Novak prompts once the bar is back in place. Dean swallows thickly while he adds one weight onto each side and secures the pins. He tries and fails not to think about how Novak’s basically bench pressing his entire body weight.

“Reps?” Dean asks, his voice remarkably steady considering the swooping feeling in his stomach.

“Five,” Novak responds. “No lift off.”

Novak’s nimble fingers grip the bar and _holy mother of_ _shit_ there he goes again. There’s a bit more of a struggle this time, but his form holds strong and he counts off his own reps even as he breathes heavier, probably so Dean knows he’s pushing himself but not struggling. He lifts the bar back onto the rack when he’s done and Dean can’t help gushing.

“Holy shit. You’re lifting that like it’s nothing, man! I’m gonna need a fan to cool off in a minute,” he says, which makes Novak beam.

“I used to be able to get up over two hundred pounds, but I don’t do it all that frequently anymore.”

“Well if you were looking to impress, you definitely hit your mark. Wow.”

“Just a fun side benefit,” he responds with a grin, pushing up to sitting. “You play any sports?” he asks suddenly.

Dean lifts a shoulder. “Nothing competitively.”

“I signed us up for a squash court in ten minutes. Do you want to play for a bit?”

“I’ve only ever messed around with my brother in there, but I can give it a shot,” Dean says.

“Let’s grab a water bottle first, then I’ll lead the way,” Novak says. As he stands up, he lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe his sweaty face and Dean catches a glimpse of rock hard abs that he knows is going to be seared into his brain for the foreseeable future.

Miraculously, he doesn’t trip over his own two feet. They take a seat on a bench near a chest full of water bottles and spend a few minutes just drinking and resting in a comfortable silence. Novak breaks it with, “Got any other plans this weekend?”

“Nothing concrete, but I’m sure Jo and Charlie will be over to make sure I’m not drowning in loneliness now that Sam’s gone.”

“Friends of yours?” he asks.

“Yeah. Grew up with Jo, and met Charlie in the pride group in high school.”

“That’s nice. I think it’s great how easy you are with being out,” he comments. “Not everybody feels like that.”

“I’ve been lucky with how many supportive people I have in my life. Charlie specifically wasn’t ever gonna let me sit on the sidelines when she knew how I felt. It was almost easier being myself around her because she couldn’t reign in the gay if she wanted to,” he says with a smile.

“So if I was to meet Charlie, you’d act differently around her?”

“Nah, not so much anymore. Conversations would be nerdier, though,” he admits.

“Nerdier?”

This is the perfect opportunity to see what he can get out of him. He couldn't have steered the conversation better if he was trying.

“Yeah, I’m a small time nerd compared to her, but still pretty big.”

 _“You’re_ a big nerd?”

“Is it really that hard to believe? Look at me,” Dean says, gesturing to his shirt.

“I assumed that was a brand or something. Is it something nerdy?”

 _What the fuck?_ “C’mon man, you gotta know what this is,” he tries.

“I’m afraid I’m about to disappoint you again,” Novak answers.

“From Harry Potter?” he prompts.

Novak’s eyes light up with understanding. “You really _are_ a nerd if you love Harry Potter.”

“And Star Wars, and _Minecraft,_ and _Dungeons and Dragons,_ and I even cosplay every now and then, thanks to Charlie.”

“Cosplay?”

“Yeah, you know, dress up in costume and pretend to be somebody else.”

Novak frowns. “Why would you do that?”

Dean has to bite his tongue from saying, _I don’t know, why were you wearing a pirate costume this morning?_

“For fun. I wouldn’t know how to be a proper handmaiden if it wasn’t for cosplay.” Novak nods and makes a sound of agreement but takes a drink from his water bottle instead of commenting. Dean has to press the issue. “You ever do anything like that?”

“Like all the nerdy stuff you just said or cosplaying?”

“Any,” Dean says, desperate for a bone.

“I guess the nerdiest thing I do is read,” he offers. “Sadly, not in costume,” he adds with a grin, getting to his feet.

“Yeah? What’s the last good book you read?” Dean asks as he also rises and follows Novak out of the room and down a hallway. Maybe he’ll finally figure out what book he was reading last week that made him cry.

“Man, it’s been a while. Maybe _Before The Fall_ by Noah Hawley?” he wonders aloud.

“Never heard of it.”

“It’s kind of like _Lost_ but without the hokey stuff,” he explains. Dean takes _hokey stuff_ to mean the part he liked best about _Lost,_ aka the science fiction stuff. He pushes down another wave of disappointment. “What about you? Do you read often?”

“Almost every day.”

“What are you reading right now?” Novak asks.

“I swear I’m not a fanatic or anything, but I’m re-reading Harry Potter. With my brother gone and everything, it kinda felt comforting to read something I know is familiar,” he says.

“I don’t mean this to come out the wrong way, but aren’t Harry Potter children’s books?”

 _That_ wave of disappointment is impossible to push down, and he’s sure it shows on his face. He has to actively work at softening his voice when he responds so he doesn’t snap at the guy. “No, man. Not even a little bit. It starts off being about kids, sure, but the vocabulary and most of the themes covered in the books aren’t kid-like at all.”

“It’s about magic, is it not?” Novak presses.

“Sure, in the same way _Little Women_ is about a bunch of chicks,” he says flippantly.

“What’s it about then?”

“Loss. Prejudice. Classism. War. Love. Friendship. Courage. Good vs evil. Death. Honestly, it’s pretty heavy shit by book seven,” he explains.

Novak’s face has morphed from a look of skepticism to a look of acceptance by the time Dean finished talking, and he nods his head as grabs two rackets off the wall and a squash ball, then opens the door to the court. “Maybe I’ll start in on book one someday,” Novak offers, which would probably go a long way to making Dean feel better about the guy if he didn’t know he was wearing Ravenclaw pajamas last night.

“If you do, I’d love to know what house you think you’d be sorted into,” he prompts.

“I’m assuming that would make sense if I read the books,” Novak says.

“I’m guessing Ravenclaw, for the record,” he says, watching his face closely for any tells of a lie.

“I’m sure I’ll remember that.” But Novak says it in a tone of voice that lets Dean know he almost certainly will not remember it at all, and as far as Dean’s concerned, that pretty much cinches it for him. No matter how hot Novak is, there’s just no way he can date somebody who can lie right to his face like that. So they play their game of squash (which Dean loses almost as badly as he did at mini golf last night) and once they shower and walk out together, Dean gives him a two fingered wave and climbs into his pride and joy without trying for anything more.

Instead of going home like originally planned, he pulls into his favorite diner and takes a seat at his regular booth. He accepts the coffee a familiar waitress brings to him, and sends a group text to both Charlie and Jo to let them know where he is if they want to meet up. They’re both there within twenty minutes, and he feels marginally better after stuffing his face with pie and hearing his two best friends telling him he deserves somebody better than Novak anyway.

They spend the afternoon back at his place taking turns picking shows to watch on Netflix. They order Chinese in for dinner, and the girls don’t even bother trying to talk him out of drowning his sorrows in a six pack of beer.

By the time they leave, it’s after eleven and he’s more than a little buzzed. He walks his friends to the door, locks it, and turns off the lights. He left his phone on the coffee table, so he wanders over to grab it, and his gaze is drawn to the building across from him as it so often is now.

With a fuzzy head, he feels himself pulled towards the window. It’s almost entirely dark in Novak’s living room, which isn’t exactly surprising considering what time it is. The room is only illuminated by the light coming off of a laptop sitting in front of Novak, and so it takes longer than it should for him to realize that the slight glow on his legs is because they’re bare. Then with stunning clarity, it’s suddenly obvious what Novak’s hand is doing moving up and down on his lap.

 _Holy fucking shit_.

The hottest guy he’s ever seen in real life is jerking off where he can see him, and Dean’s cock goes from zero to hundred faster than should even be possible. He swallows thickly and tries to make his brain think clear thoughts. Somewhere deep, deep down, he’s aware that this is crossing a line. A really big, pervy line that can never be uncrossed. But before the thought has even sunk in, his hand is rubbing his erection over his jeans. Just like that, all of the arousal he’d been trying to fight back earlier at the gym comes roaring to the surface, and any worries he might have had about crossing the pervy line are eclipsed by the pleasure he’s already feeling.

His mind jumps on board as easily as his dick, and it eagerly supplies him with vivid memories of Novak at the gym. Those god damn thighs. The way he was rising up and down on that spin bike. The flex and release of his broad shoulders paired with the roll of his leg muscles on the rowing machine. How good he looked flat on his back with his legs spread wide on the bench press. The, quite frankly, _pornographic_ grunts and groans he made while slamming the squash ball against the wall over and over.

Dean’s cock is pressing hard against the zipper of his jeans now, and without thinking about anything other than relieving some of the pressure, he unzips and pulls his hard length out of his pants. The cool air on his flushed cock already feels phenomenal, and distantly he realizes that he’s about to jerk off in front of a window where anybody might see, and his cock jumps with forbidden excitement in his hand.

God, he wishes he could see better. He wishes he could see how long and thick Novak’s cock is, if it’s flushed a deep red or dripping, just so he could know how close he is. Instead, he lets his imagination run wild about all the different ways Novak might be pleasuring himself right now. Watching raptly, he imagines that when Novak’s pace slows, he’s doing it purposely, trying to make it last longer and longer so he comes harder at the end. When his strokes lengthen, he thinks about how he might be circling his cock head with his palm on the upstroke and mimics the movement on his own cock, feeling the dampness of his arousal on his fingers and releasing a shuddering sigh. He thinks about the sexy sounds Novak might let loose since he’s alone in the house, and how low and rough his voice might be the closer he gets to the finish line.

Novak’s other hand dips between his legs and Dean lets out another needy sound when he thinks about how his balls would roll heavily in Dean’s hand, and how if he tugged on them just the right way Novak would get that delicious thrill of pleasure/pain. He might get a gasp of pleasure out of him. Novak might buck forward and force his cock more forcefully through his hand.

Dean continues to stroke himself purposefully, already groaning from the dry friction and just how fucking hard he is. He watches Novak closely as he subconsciously matches the pace of his hand to Novak’s, pretending it’s his skillful fingers wrapped around him instead. _Fuck,_ that’s good. He spits into his hand - not nearly as good as lube, but good enough for now - and lets out a stuttering breath at the slightly slicker slide of his fist.

His mind bounces back and forth between watching Novak as he starts to fuck forwards into his fist, and back to the gym. He knows exactly how Novak looks all sweaty flat on his back, and he imagines what it would feel like to climb on top of him and sink down fast and hard on the cock he’s stroking right now. He remembers the way Novak sounds when his breaths are coming out in pants, and imagines he can’t catch his breath because he’s riding him so well. He imagines Novak’s hips are thrusting his cock up and into him instead of up and into his fist, and he closes his eyes to remember the way he felt when he realized Novak could bench press his weight. He thinks about how easy it would be for a guy that strong to throw him around, how Novak could flip him over like he weighs nothing until he was pounding into him so hard all Dean would be able to do is hold on for dear life.

He stumbles when he lifts one leg up onto the window ledge, but steadies himself with a hand on the sill. Now able to maintain his balance, he sucks two fingers into his mouth before he slides one hand behind him to tease his hole as he continues fucking the tunnel of his fist. He gathers the beading precum on the tip and spreads it around to slicken his hand, watching Novak needily and wishing he’d thought to ask him for a quick fuck tonight instead of getting pissy about him lying to him. He’d let him lie about anything right now if he’d bend him over and fuck him hard and deep the way he needs so badly.

Fuck, it’s been way too long. His hole is aching to be filled, and if he wasn’t so desperate to keep watching Novak he’d be working a dildo into himself right now, pretending it was him. His arousal increases drastically just thinking about it, and he can feel his impending orgasm beginning to make itself known.

Maybe he’ll still ask him. Maybe he could just text him tomorrow, “Wanna fuck?” and Novak would come right over. His eyes slip closed when he thinks how he’d knock on the door, and as soon as Dean opened it, Novak would push him back against the wall and capture his mouth in a needy kiss. He’d finally feel those full, pink lips on his, and he’d be able to feel Novak’s cock pressing hard and fucking _huge_ against him. He’d be pinned against the wall by a line of hard muscle, and he presses his knuckle against his hole just to feel the pressure there as he thinks about it. 

Wanting to get another glimpse of that body he’s fantasizing about, he opens his eyes just in time to see Novak turn his head away, his hand flying over his dick before his hips shoot up and his body stills, and Dean _knows_ he just fucking exploded all over himself. Thinking about Novak painting that chiseled stomach of his with cum has Dean tensing up too, and all at once, he comes hard and thick over his hand - and fuck - onto the window in front of him. He can’t tear his eyes off of the filthy way his spunk slides down the glass as his chest heaves, trying to take in enough air, still wishing desperately he could have something inside of him to grind down on to ride out the rest of his orgasm.

Son of a bitch.

He sees Novak cleaning himself up and stumbles into the kitchen with his head spinning to grab some paper towels to do the same thing to himself and the window. Leaving the soiled paper towels in a heap beside his pants on the floor, he walks to his bedroom on wobbly legs and collapses face first onto his bed, promptly passing out half naked with thoughts of Novak still ghosting in his brain.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sleeps later than he usually would on a Sunday, but after waking up at nine with a headache, it was easy to convince himself to stay in bed and sleep it off. The first thing he notices when he gets out of bed is that he’s weirdly half naked - the bottom instead of the top - and after sliding into sweatpants, he walks into the living room. He sees his jeans and a pile of paper towel on the floor in front of the window and his stomach rolls when flashes of exactly what he did last night come back to him.

_Fuck._

What the hell is the matter with him? He violated Novak’s privacy in the worst possible way, and even worse than that, he got off on it like some kind of sick perv. Fuck, fuck, _fuck._ He’s disgusting. He’s so ashamed of himself and embarrassed by his own behavior he doesn’t ever want to go over to that window again. He needs to buy some blinds or something because he obviously has no self control.

He walks over to the now forbidden window to clean up the mess he left from last night, and notices a sticky film on the window that can only mean one thing when he puts two and two together in his mind. _Fuck_. His drunken ass did not do a great job of cleaning up, and it’s with further disgust and shame that he goes to grab a bottle of Windex to clean his own jizz off a fucking window like the sick fuck that he is. He’s never going to be able to look Novak in the face again.

Movement catches his eye through the window and he resolutely decides he’s not going to look. He did enough damage as it is last night, and Novak does not deserve to his privacy violated any further. Unfortunately, the first moment his brain takes a break from telling himself _no_ on repeat, his eyes flick up and he gets a glimpse of Novak on the couch... painting his nails?

Yeah, that’s definitely a blue or black nail polish and he’s definitely painting his fingernails.

He tears his eyes away, disgusted with himself all over again. What the hell is the matter with him? He’s gonna have to buy some paint of his own and paint the damn window black or something because apparently he can’t _not_ look. This isn’t normal. There’s something not right with him. He’s sure of it.

Once his mess is cleaned up, he eats a couple pieces of toast and drowns himself in coffee, then almost scrubs himself raw in the shower, hoping he can wipe away the shame he can still feel weighing him down like an anchor.

He pops a couple of painkillers to help with the headache that’s still a persistent throbbing behind his eyes, and since he doesn’t want to stay at home any more than he has to with the undeniable temptation of the window, he grabs his keys and walks out of his apartment. With no destination in mind, he gets behind the wheel of his car, blasts the music, and drives. He drives around the outskirts of town, just losing himself in the familiar comfort of his Baby. A few hours later, he pulls into the parking lot of some diner he’s never been to before and pulls out his phone to call Sam. Nothing makes him miss his brother more than the empty passenger seat that should be filled by him. They talk for almost an hour, and once he hangs up feeling better than he has since he woke up, he goes into the diner and orders himself some lunch. Nothing like a greasy burger to make him feel like himself again.

He knows he should do groceries today, but he just isn’t up to it. He also isn’t ready to go home just yet, so he drives over to Charlie’s and spends the afternoon with her. Once he heads home for the day, he busies himself with making lunch for tomorrow, doing laundry, and resisting the urge to look out the window.

He debates long and hard Monday morning about whether or not he should stop in at _Cup of Life,_ not knowing if he can handle looking Novak in the face after the Unfortunate Incident (as he’s come to think of it in his mind). He finally decides that it would look weird to Novak if they hung out on the weekend and then he didn’t stop in today, so not wanting to make the situation more awkward than it already is, he mans up and pulls open the door of _Cup of Life_ with his shoulders squared and his head held high.

He can’t help the blush that stains his cheeks, but hopefully Novak doesn’t mention it.

“Morning Winchester,” Novak says with a warm smile.

“You seem like you’re in a good mood for a Monday,” Dean comments.

“I’m all recharged after a great weekend,” he explains. _“And_ I have a surprise for you.”

“That sounds promising. What is it?” Dean asks eagerly, all previous thoughts of embarrassment gone.

“Your favorite food is pie, right?” Novak asks, and Dean nods, more intrigued than ever. “I don’t have actual pie, but I figured turnovers are basically the morning equivalent of pie, right?”

“You have turnovers?” Dean asks, immediately looking down to the glass case. There’s a spot for them with a sign and a _new_ sticker on it, but they’re all gone. “You _had_ turnovers,” he corrects with a pout.

“Perk of being friends with the owner,” Novak says with a wink, producing a little Styrofoam container.

Dean’s eyes light up even as something softens inside of him. “You saved one for me?”

“I might have,” he teases. Damn, that’s actually really sweet. “If you’re interested.” 

“I’m so interested I’m gonna need to wipe up the drool here in a minute,” Dean says seriously, causing Novak to laugh.

“Since you were the inspiration behind me asking the baker to make them for the first time and they all but flew off of the shelf, this one’s on the house,” Novak says. “So it’s just two dollars for your coffee today.”

“This is the best Monday ever,” Dean says excitedly, dipping his hand in his pocket for his change.

“And who are you today?”

“Oh, right,” Dean says, giving up on the change and grabbing his wallet instead. “Ford.”

“As in Harrison Ford?” Novak asks, writing the name on his cup.

Dean beams at him, and Novak returns his smile just as big. “You finally know one!”

“In my defense, I knew Batman, too,” Novak reminds him, which makes Dean snicker. Everybody knows Batman.

He holds his bills out to him and notices that his fingernails are bare. Why the hell would he paint his nails on a Sunday just to take the nail polish off for work the next day? Probably the same reason why he pretends not to be as nerdy as he is. His smile drops into a frown at the reminder as he accepts the little container from him.

He thanks him just the same. “Thanks, man.”

“Let me know what you think,” Novak says. “Have a good day, Winchester.”

It turns out he actually does have a pretty good day for a Monday, which definitely had something to do with the apple turnover he started his day off with. It was like heaven. He texts Novak to thank him again and starts plotting to get him to save him one fresh out of the oven so he can eat it still warm next time.

After work, he stops at home briefly to change into jeans and his most comfortable Led Zeppelin tee, then heads right back out towards the grocery store. He tries not to think about how since Jo and Charlie went with him last week, that this is the first time he’s done groceries on his own... possibly ever. Sam always insisted he go with him because they don’t eat the same kinds of food.

He grabs himself a basket and starts going through the produce searching for the few vegetables he eats without complaint, then he goes through the aisles one by one. He's just started down the aisle with the cleaning products when he realizes he didn’t grab spaghetti sauce down the aisle before this one, so turns back around to get it when his phone goes off with a message. Thinking it might be Novak finally answering him, he digs it out of his pocket as he rounds the end of the aisle and glances down to see the message is actually from Charlie. And since he’s no longer watching where he’s going, he inadvertently walks straight into somebody else and gets knocked flat on his ass. The contents of his basket spill out onto the floor and he groans at the pain radiating through his hip that lets him know he’s going to have one hell of a bruise there.

The dude he crashed into is already scrambling around to gather up the stuff that fell out of Dean’s basket, and he takes in his familiar form with amusement.

Novak catches him looking at him and Dean grins at how messed up his hair is right now. He’s never seen it so crazy except through the window, and it’s a damn good look on him.

“Please accept my apologies,” Novak says, looking over at him while he attempts to put a box of cereal back into his basket for him, which he somehow manages to miss entirely before he gets it on the second try. Maybe he’s a little shaken up, too. He certainly looks a little flushed. “I - I wasn’t entirely focused on the task at hand and I’m afraid I couldn’t stop you in time,” Novak says, offering a more formal apology than he would have expected.

“Don’t worry about it man, I was the one looking at my phone like an idiot,” Dean explains, getting to his feet with a wince.

“Are you injured?” Novak asks, dragging his eyes up and down his body as if needing visual confirmation for himself. Then his cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink Dean’s never seen on him before, and he waves away the pain so he doesn’t embarrass him any more.

“I’m definitely gonna have a bruise, but I’ll live. You okay? You took the hit like a fucking boss,” Dean says, chuckling a little. And that’s when he notices Novak is wearing a shirt with tiny porgs all over it. “Guess you liked the last Star Wars movie alright after all, huh?” he asks before he can think better of it, gesturing to his shirt.

Novak straightens up and awkwardly passes Dean his refilled basket, standing much closer to him than he ever has before.

“It wasn’t nearly as good as _The Empire Strikes Back,_ but realms better than episodes one to three,” he agrees.

Dean blinks at him in surprise and tries to swallow down the thickness in the air all of the sudden. Apparently jerking off to the guy really increased the sexual tension between them because he feels himself pulled in like a magnet. He mentally gives his head a shake and tries to keep his thoughts aimed in the appropriate direction.

“So what, you can only be nerdy when you’re not at work?”

“I’m sorry?” Novak asks, his head cocked to the side like the world’s most adorably confused bird.

“Come on man, the shirt? I just had you write Han Solo on my coffee cup less than a week ago and you acted like you knew nothing about Star Wars,” Dean reminds him, carefully leaving out all the other geeky things he’s seen him doing.

Understanding dawns on Novak’s face and he smiles shyly. He's never seen Novak look shy before in his life. Maybe he's high or something? “My apologies again, but I believe you have me confused with my brother Jimmy.”

“Jimmy?” Dean echoes.

“Jimmy Novak. Owner of _Cup of Life?”_ the guy prompts. “I’m Castiel.”

Dean takes a couple of stumbling steps back as his eyes go wide as saucers. “What?”

Novak - no, _Castiel_ , apparently - smiles reassuringly. “I’m Jimmy’s twin, Castiel,” he says again.

“He has a twin,” Dean repeats. He’s really sounding like an idiot here but he just can’t seem to make sense out of this.

“Yes. And Jimmy really doesn’t know anything about Star Wars other than what he’s absorbed from listening to me ramble on about it our whole lives.”

 _What the actual hell?_ This whole time he’s been pissed and irritated that Novak at the coffee shop and Novak in the building across from him have seemed like two totally different people - and that’s because _they actually were?_

He takes in Castiel’s body and tries to find any physical differences between him and Jimmy, other than the hair. His shoulders are just as broad and it looks like the rest of him is in really good shape the same as Jimmy. His hair’s longer and artfully tousled though, and as his eyes drift down further, that’s when he notices his fingernails are painted.

“Your nails,” he says stupidly.

Castiel looks down at them. “Um, yes. Not something Jimmy does. He’s still mildly horrified that I do it after all these years, to be entirely truthful with you,” he says, his lips quirking.

“What Hogwarts house are you in?” Dean asks, still needing further proof this isn’t some kind of joke or something.

Castiel’s eyebrows draw together in confusion over the seemingly random question, but he replies, “Ravenclaw. Why?”

“Holy shit,” Dean curses under his breath, finally accepting that this actually happened to him.

“Are you quite certain you’re alright?” Castiel asks, stepping right into his personal space again like he belongs there. “You look considerably more shocked than most people are when they first learn Jimmy and I are twins.”

“Sorry. Yeah, I’m okay. It's just uh, Jimmy and I have gone out a couple of times and he never mentioned he had a twin,” Dean tries to explain.

This time it’s Castiel who looks shocked. “You and Jimmy went out? On a date?”

“Uh, well, I think so. I mean, he never really said but he bought me lunch, we exchanged numbers, and we hit the gym together.”

Castiel’s face goes a little pink again and he looks at the floor for several seconds before he says, “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but unless Jimmy’s changed his sexual preferences since I spoke to him last night, my brother’s entirely straight.”

“What?” Dean asks again.

Castiel looks up at him with softness in those big blue eyes of his, and it’s the apology written all over his face that lets him know the guy’s telling him the truth. “I’m terribly sorry for the misunderstanding. I'm sure he didn't mean to give you that impression.”

“No, no. I mean, it’s embarrassing, but as hot as he is -” This time it’s Dean’s turn to blush as he realizes he just basically admitted to thinking that Castiel is hot, too. “- we, uh, didn’t have anything in common so it probably wasn’t going to work out anyway.” Then he remembers what Castiel just said and corrects himself again. “I mean, I guess it _really_ wasn’t going to work out if he isn’t into dudes. Fuck, this is embarrassing,” he admits again.

“I understand completely. Usually I’m the one embarrassing myself in front of men I find attractive, so this is a pleasant change of perspective for me,” he says. Then his eyes go comically wide and he stutters, “Not - not that I think you’re attractive.” He actually winces and drags a hand through that crazy hair of his while he says, “Wait, no. That’s not what I meant. I do, obviously, look at you -” another wince “- but, but what I meant is that I didn’t mean to imply that you thought _I_ was attractive. I understand that while Jimmy and I are identical twins, our styles and personalities are quite different.”

Dean can’t stop smiling now, because if he thought Jimmy was cute, this stumbling, awkward, messy haired version of the same face and body is about a hundred times cuter, and he can’t resist lifting his hand to rub reassuringly just above his elbow. The second skin meets skin, Dean feels sparks flare between them and he mentally pumps his fist in the air. Maybe life _can be_ a rom-com.

“Turns out I’m more into the whole messy hair, porg-shirt-wearing version of the guy I thought was so hot anyway,” Dean says, grinning at the way Castiel seems suddenly very interested in looking at everything _but_ his face.

“You don’t - you don’t have to say that,” Castiel says, now staring at the ground. “I’m well aware of how many people get along with Jimmy better than me.”

“I didn’t have much in common with Jimmy, remember? And it’s not like I knew there was another option out there who actually knows what a porg is.” Castiel smiles softly and Dean speaks again without thinking. “I know this is all kinds of fucked up considering I thought I was dating your brother up until two minutes ago, but could I get your number? I’d really like to get to know a guy who likes Star Wars  _and_ looks like you do a lot better.”

Castiel chews on that full bottom lip of his for a few seconds before he raises his eyes slowly to lock onto Dean’s. Dean licks his lips as he feels those sparks light up between them again, and judging by the way Castiel’s eyes darken, he knows there’s no damn way Castiel isn’t feeling the same thing between them as he is.

“Please, Castiel?” Dean asks again, his voice softer this time.

“This is a very strange situation,” he says, clearly wavering. “Jimmy and I have never had to deal with dating the same people before considering our preferences, but I feel like I should speak to him about it first. He has your number, correct?”

“Yeah, but not my name.” Castiel frowns but he waves it away. “Weird thing we had going, don’t worry about it. I’m Dean, but he knows me by my last name, Winchester.”

Castiel nods weakly and takes a step back for the first time. Dean misses their closeness immediately. “Alright, Dean. I’ll talk to Jimmy, and then hopefully I’ll speak with you again.”

“Hopefully, huh?” Dean teases, shooting him one of his most charming smiles.

Castiel blows out a heavy breath, raking his eyes over his body slowly before he says, “Yes, hopefully. Nice to meet you, Dean.”

“Glad I bumped into you,” Dean jokes, and he’s rewarded with his first real smile from Castiel, which includes the same nose crinkles Jimmy had that he thought were so cute. Dean watches Castiel as he walks away with his posture so much straighter than Jimmy’s it’s almost laughable, and Dean knows he’s going to do whatever he has to in order to get to know the equally hot, _nerdy_ twin better.

He’s so excited to get home and call Charlie to tell her Jimmy isn’t a douchebag, he doesn’t even bother switching out his vegetables for new ones even though he knows they’re all going to be bruised. Instead, he hightails it to the checkout and races home.

He doesn’t hear anything from either Jimmy _or_ Castiel that night. He checks his phone often enough that he feels like an idiot, but he still can’t stop unlocking his phone to check again and again. He meanders over to the window a couple of times, but though he sees the little orange kitten sprawled out in a patch of sunlight, there’s no sign of Castiel.

Tuesday morning, he’s anxious as hell to go to _Cup of Life_. And honestly, still more than a little embarrassed. Thinking a straight dude was hitting on him isn’t exactly something new, but actually thinking he went on a few dates with one is a first for him, and an experience he hopes he never repeats. His embarrassment had only grown throughout the evening when he kept thinking back over the conversations he and Jimmy had.

When they had lunch, Jimmy had implied that they were friends - twice that he can remember - and he also said something about _perks of being friends with the owner_. Not _dating_ the owner. They had spoken a few times about gay-friendly stuff, but Jimmy never said _he_ was gay, he just spoke like he knew people who were. The times he thought Jimmy was flirting with him must have actually been just friendly teasing - the same way he teases Charlie - and Dean was just seeing it the way he wanted to see it. Jimmy didn’t buy his lunch because they were on a date, he bought his lunch because he gets a good deal on the food, like he said. And Dean’s a moron.

Which is exactly how he feels waiting in the lineup at _Cup of Life,_ and it only increases when Jimmy lays eyes on him and jerks his head to indicate Dean should join him on the counter side. Dean fidgets with the paper lunch bag in his fingers and deliberately doesn’t make eye contact until he’s close enough that he can’t possibly avoid it.

“Hey, Winchester,” Jimmy says with a knowing smile.

“You’re really still gonna call me that?” Dean asks.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” Jimmy says. His teasing grin quickly sobers into something more serious and Dean knows they're about to have the conversation he's been dreading. “So I talked to my brother last night, and it sounded like I owe you an apology.”

“What? No!” Dean says quickly. “It wasn’t you, man, it was me. I was an idiot.”

“Still. What Castiel told me had me rethinking all of our interactions from your point of view, and I totally get why you might have gotten the wrong idea. Plus, it was pretty obvious to me that you were flirting with me, but I never said anything because I thought you just flirt with everybody.”

“I really don’t,” Dean assures him, painfully embarrassed.

“Although you didn’t waste any time trying to pick up my brother,” Jimmy says, his tone of voice suddenly serious. Dean counters it with an attempt at a joke.

“I guess I have a type, what can I say?” Jimmy grins instantly and Dean can tell now that he’s just fucking with him. “Seriously though, how weird is that for you?”

“That you think I’m hot, but I’m straight, so now you want to date my gay brother instead?” Jimmy asks, lips quirking. “Not as weird as the time one of my ex girlfriends asked if she could fuck both me and Castiel at the same time.” Dean makes a face of disgust - they’re _brothers_ for god’s sake - and Jimmy continues. “I guess it’s a little weird, but honestly, after that conversation we had about how nerdy you are, I was already wondering if it would be too twisted to try to set the two of you up.”

“Really?” Dean asks.

“Yeah, really. All that Harry Potter and Star Wars stuff is right up his alley. Still can’t promise you he’s going to give a shit about your car, but at least he can come in sufficiently warned so he doesn’t make you cry like I almost did.”

“Oh fuck you,” Dean says lightly, making Jimmy tip his head back with laughter.

“So now the _real_ Dean comes out, huh?”

“You’re one to talk! How do you have a twin and _not_ lead with that?” Dean asks.

Jimmy sobers up somewhat. “No, you’re right, I should have told you. I just hate answering the same five questions over and over every time I have to tell somebody new.” He produces a box from under the counter and says, “Listen, if I tell you I saved you another turnover, can we put all the weird shit behind us or are you just going to think I’m flirting with you again?”

Dean rolls his eyes dramatically. “You’re not gonna let that go anytime soon, are you?”

“Nope, not a chance,” Jimmy says happily.

“I guess I’ll forgive you if you tell me you gave Cas my number?”

Jimmy gives him an assessing look. “I know you have to get to work, but you’re not going to break his heart, are you? He’s... God, he’s painfully shy at first, and he’d kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but you’re the first person he’s been interested in enough to even attempt to pursue in years as far as I know.”

He feels hope and excitement work its way through him and tries not to show just how pleased he is to hear Castiel is interested in pursuing him.

“You’re the older brother, aren’t you?”

“How could you tell?” Jimmy asks dryly.

“I’m not gonna hurt him on purpose. I only talked to him for less than five minutes so I can’t promise you we’re gonna hit it off, but I can promise you I’m not going to be a dick about it if we don’t.”

“Good. Especially after you told me about the pube in coffee thing,” Jimmy says, handing him his cup with _Winchester_ written on it.

Dean lets out a soft huff of laughter. “Guess I’d have to find a new coffee place.”

“Damn right you would. One more thing before you go. I’m assuming that because you asked if I gave Castiel your number he didn’t call?”

Oh. He hadn’t thought of that, and he can feel his shoulders deflate as the reality hits him. Maybe Castiel isn’t that into him? “No, he didn’t.”

“Don’t worry about that. Painfully shy, remember? I’ll send you his number. If you don’t hear from him by the time you’re done with your shift at the bank, take the lead.”

Dean nods his head in understanding. “Thanks, man. And thanks for being cool about this. I know it’s kinda weird.”

“Weird makes things interesting,” he responds. “Now gimme your five bucks, and I’m keeping the change.”

Dean chuckles and hands it over, and he walks out of the building feeling much better than he did walking into it. Maybe Charlie was right when she said he might be able to be friends with Novak even if he never felt that spark between them.

The spark he felt with Castiel.

He checks his phone at lunch, but other than chatty messages from Jo and Charlie, and a picture of Sam’s current assignment outline, there’s nothing from Castiel. He checks again on his afternoon break, but still nothing.

He spends the afternoon planning out what he’s going to say when he texts Castiel once he gets his number from Jimmy, but it turns out he doesn’t have to worry about that because when he checks his phone after work, there’s a message waiting for him.

 **CASTIEL:** Hello, Dean. This is Jimmy’s brother, Castiel. How are you?

Dean’s already grinning like an idiot. Castiel is texting super formally with perfect punctuation and everything. He can almost see the dude sitting in his apartment with his too-straight posture, frowning at his phone while he tries to pick the right words. A really big part of Dean (the part that’s an asshole) wants to fuck with him and pretend he doesn’t know who he is just to see how he’d react, but that’s probably not the best course of action to take to win over somebody you wanna date.

 **DEAN:** Hey, Castiel! I was hoping I would hear from you today.  
**CASTIEL:** I’m pleased to hear that. I would have spoken with you earlier but I was out quite late with Jimmy and I didn’t want to wake you either last night or this morning.  
**DEAN:** That’s okay, I’m glad you texted now :)

Where their messages had been going back and forth quickly, there’s a pause lengthy enough now that he has time to walk the rest of the way home and change out of his work clothes. He walks over to the window and sees Castiel sitting on the couch with his phone in his hands. Figuring he must be busy talking to somebody else, he walks into the kitchen. He’s standing in front of the open refrigerator trying to decide what he’s going to make himself for dinner when his phone goes off again. He doesn’t dive on it, but it’s pretty close.

 **CASTIEL:** To be completely honest, I’m not entirely sure what I’m meant to say now.

Dean snorts as he shakes his head. Was he sitting there this whole time looking at his phone trying to come up with something to type? That is some adorable shit right there. He figures he should do what he can to make him feel better.

 **DEAN:** Hey, that’s okay. It’s always a little awkward at first :) I’d still like the chance to get to know you better if you’re open to it. Maybe face-to-face would be better than texting?  
**CASTIEL:** I would like that.  
**DEAN:** Awesome. Since I’m getting the feeling you’re pretty shy, how about something really laid back?  
**CASTIEL:** That sounds wonderful.  
**DEAN:** Okay, maybe we could just grab an ice cream?  
**CASTIEL:** I like ice cream :)  
**DEAN:** We’re off to a good start then :D When are you free?  
**CASTIEL:** I’m not doing anything tonight.

Dean’s eyebrows shoot up. Maybe Castiel is a little shy, but he’s also pretty forward. He doesn’t even know if he’s ever been asked out for the same day before. There’s usually all that 'wait a couple days so you don’t look too anxious' crap. But forget that bullshit. He _is_ anxious to get to know Castiel better, so he goes for it.

 **DEAN:** Not what I was expecting, but I’m not doing anything tonight either. DQ on Lakeshore at 7?  
**CASTIEL:** I’ll meet you there. But Dean? What do people generally wear on an ice cream date?

Dean grins at seeing Castiel say this is a date. There’s no misinterpreting this with the nerdy twin.

 **DEAN:** You should wear whatever you’re comfortable in. I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Nothing fancy.  
**CASTIEL:** I’ll see you there then.

Now knowing that he’s not going to need a big dinner considering he’s going to do his best to eat his body weight in ice cream, he makes himself a couple of grilled cheese sandwiches and plunks his ass in front of the couch. Because he told Castiel he was going to be casual, he doesn’t change out of his old pair of jeans or his AC/DC tee, though he does waffle over the shirt. It’s a few years old and it’s stretched out a bit and makes him look smaller than he is. He settles on adding a touch of cologne, and hopes Castiel doesn’t mind his shabbier than usual appearance.

After taking comfort in the drive and the familiar rumble of his Baby’s motor, he pulls the Impala into the Dairy Queen parking lot. He doesn’t have to wonder if Castiel is planning on meeting him inside or outside, because he can see him waiting right outside the door. He’s wearing skinny jeans, Converse sneakers, and the black t-shirt he saw him in a while ago with the dinosaur on it. He can tell from here his hair’s crazy again and he’s totally into it.

He already has a smile on his face when he gets out of his car and crosses the parking lot towards Castiel.

“Hey, Castiel,” he greets him.

“Hello, Dean.”

He looks down to read Castiel’s t-rex shirt and lets out a snort of laughter. _If you’re happy and you know it, clap your... oh._

“I like your shirt,” Dean tells him.

There’s a ghost of a smile on Castiel’s face before he ducks his head. “It’s silly. Most of my shirts are.”

“Well, I think it’s funny, so that works for me. Wanna grab some ice cream?”

“Yes, please,” Castiel answers. Dean’s facing the door, so he pulls it open for him and they get into the back of the short line.

“What’s your Dairy Queen go-to?” Dean asks.

“Um. Just a cone, usually.”

Dean lifts his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? All these options and you go with a cone?”

“Yes,” Castiel replies. His eyes dart away as his face heats up, but he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he adds, “Though I like them coated in chocolate.”

“Now we’re talking,” Dean grins.

“What, um, what do you usually get?” Castiel asks, his cheeks still a faint pink color. Dean gets the impression small talk is incredibly difficult for him, and decides to do as much yapping as he can to make it easier for him.

“I’m a man of many tastes. Don’t really like to commit, you know?” A look of disappointment flashes across Castiel’s face and Dean corrects himself. “To ice cream,” he clarifies, letting his hand rest on the small of his back. Castiel nods and Dean exhales shallowly. “I usually go with a Blizzard, but I change up the flavor.”

“Any thoughts on what you’re going to get tonight?”

That seemed to come out easier, and he smiles at him encouragingly. “I was thinking Oreo, but I probably wouldn’t make a great first impression with black cookie stuck between my teeth,” Dean quips. “So maybe I'll go with M&M.”

“I’ve never tried a Blizzard,” Castiel comments.

“Wait - what? Really?” Castiel nods. “Okay, well you’re totally trying a bite of mine, then. You don’t know what you’re missing. M&M is a classic.”

“Your Blizzard matches your car, then,” Castiel says.

Dean’s smile grows as he wonders if Jimmy prompted him to mention the Impala. “You know somethin’ about cars, Cas?”

Castiel’s lips turn up into a small smile and he nods. “Not a whole lot, but something, yes. Is it a ‘69 Impala?”

“Nah, ‘67, but they look a lot alike. I’m impressed.”

“Can I help who’s next?” the kid behind the counter calls out.

With his hand on Castiel’s lower back, he guides him forwards so they both go up together. “I’ll have a regular M&M Blizzard, please. And a dipped cone for Cas.”

“What size?” the kid asks Castiel.

“Um, medium, please.”

The cashier gives them their total and Dean pulls out his wallet.

“No, separate. Two separate orders,” Castiel insists.

“It’s okay, I got it. I asked you out after all,” Dean says, holding out his debit card.

He pays, and the kid tells him, “You can pick up your order at the end of the counter.”

“Thanks,” Dean replies.

“Thank you for buying my ice cream, Dean,” Castiel says.

“Thanks for coming out with me. I wasn’t expecting I’d get to see you again so soon.”

Castiel looks at his shoes. “I texted Jimmy after you and I made plans to come out tonight and he told me I shouldn’t have seemed so eager to see you. That it would make me look needy.”

“I’ll make sure to tell Jimmy to screw off tomorrow,” Dean tells him jokingly. “I like that you wanted to see me, ‘cause I wanted to see you, too.”

“Here you go,” another kid says, passing them their ice cream.

“Thank you,” Castiel says.

“Wanna go sit at a table outside?” Dean asks.

“Sure.”

They walk outside and sit across from each other at a picnic table and dig into their ice cream. Castiel breaks the silence with, “Why did you want to get to know me better?”

Dean swallows his bite of ice cream. “Why not?”

“People usually don’t. I’m too quiet and awkward.”

“Quiet ain’t always a bad thing, and you don’t seem _that_ awkward. Did Jimmy tell you about the first time he and I met?”

“Only that you met at the coffee shop,” Castiel says.

“Probably one of the most embarrassing moments of my life,” Dean reveals. “I uh, thought he was ridiculously hot, and when he said _good morning_ I couldn’t even get a word out. I just stood there staring at him before I started stuttering like an idiot. It was like his face short circuited my brain or something, and I could barely make enough words to order myself a coffee,” he chuckles.

Castiel’s small smile falls and he looks away to clear his throat before he replies, “You don’t seem like the kind of guy who reacts like that to people.”

“You’re only getting that impression because imaginary dating your brother helped me get used to how hot you are,” he jokes.

Castiel seems to fold in on himself. He looks everywhere _but_ at him, and it leaves Dean feeling like he’s scrambling. He’d hoped that by complimenting him he might help him relax a little, but his jokes and flattery aren’t landing the way he thought they would and he doesn’t get why.

“Hey, Cas? I know this is just a first date and it’s not gonna be super comfortable, but your body language is making me feel like I’m screwing it up already, and I don’t really know what I’m doing wrong here.”

Castiel finally looks up to meet his eyes. It’s clear he’s assessing him in some way, but Dean doesn’t know what to do to tip the odds in his favor. “I don’t know what to say. You’re talking about Jimmy and saying how attractive he is, but I also get the impression you think you’re complimenting me.”

“You’re identical,” Dean says, confused. “When I say I thought Jimmy was hot the first time I saw him, it’s the same as telling you I think you’re hot, isn’t it?”

“Indirectly maybe. But...” And then there’s another pause when Castiel stops to lick up a stray drop of vanilla ice cream. “Honestly, a part of me feels like I’m just listening to you compliment another person, and it’s not a great feeling to have on a date.”

“Shit,” Dean says quickly. “That’s not what I was going for at all. No wonder you looked unhappy. I'm sorry, okay? Let me make it really clear, okay? At the risk of coming on too strong, I think _you’re_ really hot. I definitely have a thing for the way you dress and the wild hair you’ve got going on.”

The hand not filled with his cone runs through it absentmindedly. “Jimmy says it looks like I stuck my finger in an electrical outlet,” Castiel mumbles with a small smile.

“Jimmy also said my car was nice because it’s _shiny_ , and he didn’t even mean it. I think it’s pretty well established at this point that his opinions are shit,” Dean teases, trying to get things back on track.

Castiel snorts with laughter. “You seem like a nice man, Dean... but this is still such a strange situation for me.”

“Which part’s still bugging you? Maybe we can fix it,” he says before taking a big bite of his Blizzard.

“I don’t want this to come out the wrong way, but I kind of feel like you’re only interested in me because you couldn’t have Jimmy. Like I’m your second choice.”

“I’m not gonna lie to you, Cas. I thought Jimmy was good looking right off the bat, and he was the first person I’ve been interested in dating since my last girlfriend cheated on me.” He swallows the bite he was working on and keeps talking. “And I like Jimmy, I do. I think he’s funny and smart, and he’s easy to shoot the shit with. But right from the beginning, it was pretty clear we didn’t have anything in common. I wasn’t even going to bother going out with him again after we had lunch that day because even though he was easy on the eyes, I just didn’t feel a spark between us. But my best friend convinced me to see him again by telling me that if all else failed, me and Novak could be friends.”

He pauses long enough to take another bite of ice cream, though it’s not nearly as good as it was before this started feeling weird. “That’s how I felt when I left the gym, which I thought was our second date. I had fun and he was cool, and I’d probably go to the gym with him again if he still wanted to, but I didn’t like him like that, you know?” Castiel nods and it might only be in Dean’s head, but it looks like to him that he’s relaxed a little bit now. “Then I bumped into you at the grocery store, got one look at your hair and your Star Wars shirt, found out there was a nerdier version of the hot guy I didn’t have anything in common with and couldn’t believe my luck.”

“You like Star Wars?” Castiel asks.

“Like’s definitely not a strong enough word,” he says with a grin. Already knowing that Cas has a thing for dressing up, he admits to his nerdy side quickly. “I have a licensed Han Solo costume that I wear every Halloween.” _And sometimes around the house, because why the hell not?_

“I have a Luke Skywalker one,” Castiel admits, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

“No shit?” Castiel ducks his head again but nods. Dean waits for him to look up again before he slowly rakes his eyes over his face and down his torso. “I’d really like to see that sometime.”

Castiel’s tongue darts out to lick his bottom lip and responds, “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, pleased by the direction this seems to be going in now. Castiel nods again. “Good. So listen, I know you’re a little shy, but I really would like to get to know you better. Can you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“I hate that question,” Castiel says with a small smile. “I never know what to say. What are you interested in hearing about?”

“You,” Dean answers simply. “Let’s start with your job. What do you do?”

“I’m a comics artist,” Castiel answers.

“Like comic books?”

“Yes. And logos, commercials, anything I can create art for in that genre that will keep the bills paid.”

“Woah, that’s awesome,” Dean gushes, sufficiently impressed. “Think I’ve seen anything you’ve drawn?”

“Everything at _Cup of Life_ ,” Castiel says. “The menu board, the menus, the logo on the napkins, the picture on the cup.” Dean nods, thinking back over all of the things he’s mentioned. “Um. Also, the Mr. Clean Superbowl commercial? With the dancing?”

“You did that!?” Dean asks.

“I did the storyboard.”

“That’s _so_ cool! I literally only watch the Superbowl for the commercials.”

“That makes two of us, but I’m afraid I need to warn you that the commercial may be the only cool thing about me,” Castiel says.

“No way. You have a porg shirt and a t-rex tiny arm joke shirt. You’re cool as hell,” Dean argues.

“I really don’t think that’s true, but thank you anyway. What is it that you do?”

Dean’s exceptionally pleased with how easy the conversation seems to be flowing now.

“Nothin’ as glamorous as you. I’m a bank teller. I like it a lot, but it ain’t exactly exciting.”

“I don’t think that matters as long as you’re happy doing what you do,” Castiel offers. “Um.” He drops his eyes down to the table again before he seems to find the words he’s searching for. “You mentioned earlier that you have an ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah. We were together for almost a year before it all went down in flames,” Dean tells him. “But that was six months ago.”

“If it’s not too personal to ask - how do you identify sexually?”

“Oh,” he says, just now realizing what he meant by asking about his ex-girlfriend. “I’m bi. You?”

“Gay,” Castiel answers.

“Lucky me,” Dean says, eliciting another smile from him. “My turn to ask you something,” he says, thinking as he leans across the picnic table. “Okay, so you thought it was kinda weird that I thought I was dating Jimmy and wanted to get to know you, but you were still interested enough to text me to see if I wanted to go out?”

“Yes,” Castiel says simply.

Dean smiles and raises his eyebrows in question. “Wanna elaborate?”

“I... I suppose you could say I have a type,” Castiel says shyly.

“Hmmm,” Dean says, thinking aloud. “That’s vague. So what is it about me? The tall thing?”

“No,” Castiel says with a chuckle. “Though I don’t mind that.”

“Pretty face?” he teases.

Castiel swallows and nods. “Something like that, yes.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty, Cas?” he grins, batting his eyelashes playfully.

“Yes,” Castiel says again. “I think you’re incredibly beautiful.”

Beautiful? His face immediately flushes with color. He doesn’t know if anybody’s ever called him that - not that he minds. It’s kinda nice, actually, even if it’s a bit feminine. Then something clicks. He made a joke to Jimmy about not wanting to look like a twink, and Jimmy said something about, _“I’ve heard some people are into that kinda thing.”_ At the time he thought Jimmy was flirting with him, but knowing that he’s straight now, was he maybe talking about Cas and his type?

“You like that I’m smaller than you?” Dean tries. Even from across the table he can see the way Castiel’s breath catches and he snaps his fingers when he gets the confirmation he needed. “Bingo.”

“Technically you’re taller than I am,” Castiel says.

“Who you tryin’ to convince here Cas, me or you?”

“You,” Castiel says, smiling shyly.

Dean chuckles. “Save your breath. I’m definitely into you bein’ stronger than I am. It’s one of the best things about being with a guy as far as I’m concerned.”

“Um,” Castiel says, dragging a hand through his hair. “We seem to have veered away from appropriate first date talk.”

“Stop flirting with me so hard then,” Dean teases.

“I’m afraid I can’t resist,” Castiel says back, causing Dean’s smile to spread. He’s having fun now that Cas has loosened up some.

“When’s the last time you went on a date?”

“Honestly? It’s been years.”

“I find that hard to believe. Hot guy like you?” Dean asks.

“Dean,” Castiel chastises him lightly, making Dean laugh in response. “Honestly. I don’t meet a lot of people considering I work from home, and as you said, I’m quite shy.”

“Well I guess I gotta keep thanking my lucky stars I literally bumped into you, then. Though Jimmy told me this morning he was thinking about setting us up anyway,” he tells Cas.

“He mentioned that to me, as well. He told me you were a self proclaimed nerd and that it made him think of me.”

Dean nods and licks off his spoon. “Total nerd and proud of it.”

“And yet you’re wearing a t-shirt of a rock band,” Castiel comments.

“I can be both, promise,” Dean says. “You like AC/DC?”

Castiel shrugs. “I’m not a super fan or anything, but they have decent music. Rock in general is usually good.”

Dean’s inner excitement mounts. “Listen, I’m gonna ask you something, and if you don’t know the answer, you need to come up with a suitable distraction so I can at least attempt to hide my disappointment, okay?”

“I’m on the edge of my seat,” Castiel says dryly.

“Do you know who Jimmy Page is?”

“From Led Zeppelin? Everybody knows who Jimmy Page is,” Castiel says easily.

Dean presses both hands to his heart and sighs happily. “That’s it. I think this is love, Cas.”

Castiel blushes but laughs it off. “If only it was that easy.”

“No matter what anybody else ever says, you have my definitive word that you are in fact the cooler twin.”

“Well, if you said it, it must be true,” Castiel says sarcastically. Dean kinda likes this sassy side of him that's keeping up with his banter.

“It _is_ true. Your brother didn’t know who Page or Plant were,” Dean tells him.

Castiel makes a face of disbelief. “Well then I win by default.”

“That’s what I’m sayin’!” he says happily. Then he’s distracted when Cas starts chomping down on his cone. “I’m totally impressed you managed to eat all that chocolate without getting it all over your face, by the way.”

Castiel chews and swallows his bite before he says, “I’m a man of many talents.”

Dean grins. “I believe it. And listen, I don’t know what you were talking about earlier about being quiet and awkward. It’s been way easier to talk to you than it usually is on a first date.”

“You’re easy to talk to.”

“Does that mean I’m gonna get a second date?” Dean asks hopefully.

Castiel smiles. “If neither of us screw it up before you finish your ice cream, then yes.”

“Pressure’s on,” Dean jokes as he digs in.

“Tell me more about your love for Jimmy Page and Robert Plant,” Castiel prompts. And that’s all Dean needs to launch into tales of his favorite band and countless memories from his childhood that are interwoven with Zeppelin in his mind. For Castiel’s part, he listens attentively, cracks an occasional dry joke, and offers insight into some of his favorite songs that has Dean mesmerized by his mind.

Even after they’ve both finished their ice cream, the conversation keeps flowing easily and they end up staying and talking until the outside lights flick on. Their feet are tangled under the the table, and somehow, their hands have strayed towards each other in the center of the table, though neither of them makes the final step towards actually holding hands.

It’s almost nine o’clock when Castiel says, “I’m having a really good time, but I have to get going soon.”

“Yeah,” Dean agrees. “I haven’t made my lunch for tomorrow yet. Didn’t think we’d be out for so long just getting ice cream.”

“I didn’t mean to keep you,” Castiel says quickly.

“Nah, come on. You gotta know I’m having a great time, too,” Dean says softly.

Castiel ducks his head a little but nods. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“What a gentleman,” Dean says with a small wink.

This time when they both get to their feet, Cas seems to have a boost of confidence and presses his palm against Dean’s. Dean can’t suppress a soft smile as their fingers twine together for the first time and happiness explodes inside of him. If he suddenly slows his pace by half just to feel it a little bit longer, Cas either doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything.

Then they’re standing in front of the driver’s side of the car and Cas lets out a low whistle. “Your car really is gorgeous,” he tells Dean.

“Now you’re just trying to get into my pants,” Dean jokes.

Castiel’s face turns an adorable shade of pink, but he grins and asks, “Is that the best way?”

“I don’t think you’re gonna need help in that department.” Castiel keeps grinning and Dean asks, “Where’s your car?”

“I walked,” he says. “That’s why I thought I’d better get going before it’s completely dark.”

“I can drive you home, man. Get in,” Dean offers.

“You don’t even know where I live,” Castiel says lightly, but he walks around the car anyway and gets in the passenger seat. Which works out well for Dean, because it gives him a second to hide the sheer panic from almost fucking up.

“Where to?” Dean says, getting in behind the wheel.

Of course he already knows, so when Castiel tells him his address he pretends like this is news to him. “No way. My building’s right beside there! We’re practically neighbors.”

“That explains why you stop in at _Cup of Life_ every morning,” Castiel comments. “I can’t believe how well maintained the interior of your car is,” he says next, and grateful for the abrupt change of subject, he tells Cas the story of how he had the interior refinished a couple of years ago. At Castiel’s insistence, he parks in his own parking lot so Cas can just walk the rest of the way himself.

“I feel like a bad date not making sure you get home okay,” Dean says as they get out.

“Only one of us can do that, and to be honest with you, I’d much prefer that I’m able to take care of you,” Castiel says, walking around to his side of the car. And maybe it’s all in his head, but he’s pretty sure he hears a double meaning in there. Then Castiel’s eyes drop to look at Dean’s lips and he takes a step closer, and there’s no misreading _that._ “May I walk you to your door, Dean?”

So much for shy. Cas is looking at him like he wants to eat him alive and Dean can feel his body reacting to it already. His heart’s racing, desire is churning in his stomach, and he has to fight back a shudder at the way his name sounds in that deep voice of his.

“I, uh, have a feeling I’m not gonna be able to hold off on asking you to come inside if you follow me up,” Dean admits, wetting his lips just thinking about it.

“And I have a feeling I’m not going to be able to say no to you,” Castiel says, stepping so close to Dean that he instinctively steps back and finds himself pressed up against the door of the car. Then Cas’s hands are on his hips, burning through his clothes, and he can _just_ hear a soft sound of approval from him. “You’re far too beautiful.”

“Cas,” Dean says on a sigh as butterflies take flight in his stomach. The way Cas’s thumbs are caressing his hips makes him feel... fragile almost, and it’s something he hasn’t felt in a really long time.

“I like how you call me that,” Castiel says, smiling genuinely and transforming his entire expression from predatory to soft and adorable.

God, he’s unbelievably cute and mind-meltingly hot at the same time.

Dean drops his gaze to try to process the change in the air between them, but his heart turns to mush when he feels Castiel’s thumb and forefinger tip his chin up. He has a couple inches on him, but because of the way he’s leaning back against the car, Cas is looking down at him. He has a split second to lick his lips in anticipation while Castiel searches his eyes for permission, and then Cas leans down and presses his lips to Dean’s.

It’s soft at first, and still, it’s enough to take his breath away. Castiel’s lips are full and supple, and Dean can’t help the way he goes pliant beneath them. Castiel’s fingers tighten on his hips, but his lips remain gentle, and when he hears a soft whimper from Cas, he opens his mouth in invitation. Castiel deepens the kiss but keeps his tongue to himself, their lips still clinging tenderly together and making him feel like everything inside of him is melting from a slow, torturous burn. Castiel’s fingers on his chin slide along his jaw until he’s cupping his face, causing Dean to lean into his touch, silently begging for more.

And that’s when Cas starts to back away, kissing him once more chastely before he withdraws entirely. He rubs his thumb gently along Dean’s spit slick bottom lip while his eyes, darker than Dean’s ever seen them, bore down into his.

“I’ll beg for a second date if I have to,” Castiel says, his voice lower than it was earlier.

“That is _not_ how I thought that sentence was going to end,” Dean says breathlessly, surprising even himself with how well his brain seems to be functioning even though he feels like he’s floating.

“I believe you could have me begging for any number of things much easier than you know, Dean,” Castiel says, finally dropping his hand from his face. “I had a very good time tonight.”

“That makes two of us,” Dean says honestly.

“Would you like to have lunch one day this week? We could meet at _Cup of Life_ if that wouldn’t be too reminiscent of your not-date with my brother?”

“Nah, it’ll be good. Cleanse the slate and all that. I’d like that a lot, Cas.”

“Can I text you?”

“Literally any time,” Dean says.

Castiel leans down to kiss him once more quickly before he takes a step back and says, “Goodnight, Dean.”

“‘Night, Cas,” Dean replies, finally able to find his feet now that he isn’t overwhelmed by Castiel’s presence.

He stands there and watches him as he walks away, completely unembarrassed even when Cas looks back over his shoulder and sees him watching. Dean goes into complete douche mode and gives him finger guns, and grins to himself when he hears Castiel’s low chuckle follow him around the corner.

What a freaking day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **READ THIS CHAPTER BEFORE THIS NOTE:** How long did it take you to figure out the Cas/Jimmy thing!? I'm DYING to know! :D
> 
> Also, please don't spoil the surprise for other readers by posting the twist on social media! <3


	5. Chapter 5

“Wow, you are so gone on this guy,” Charlie observes the next night while she chops peppers for homemade pizza.

“Shut up, I am not,” Dean disagrees, even though he kind of is.

“Please!” Jo interjects. “You’ve been all, _Cas this,_ and _Cas that_ , since we got here.”

“And if I have to hear about how soft the guy’s lips are one more time I might actually throw up,” Charlie adds with a grin.

“I thought you wanted me to get out there again,” Dean reminds her.

“We did,” Jo answers for her, tearing bacon into tiny morsels. “But you’ve never been all gushy like this before.”

“I am not _gushing_.”

“You so are!” Charlie laughs. “If it wasn’t me who had to listen to it all night I would think it’s adorable.”

“Wow, thanks for your support,” Dean says dryly.

Okay, so he might’ve been talking about Cas more than he usually would after a first date, but it’s not his fault the dude was pressing all of his buttons! The more he thinks about last night, the more he _can’t stop_ thinking about it. Cas flip flops between shy and awkward to flirtatious and confident, and he has no idea why both versions do it for him, but they really, _really_ do. And fuck, that kiss. And the way Cas was looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive... Dean’s pretty sure he’s been in a constant state of arousal ever since.

“I will say it’s kinda nice to see you all goo-goo eyes over somebody for once,” Jo says reluctantly.

“What’re you talking about?” Dean asks.

“Well, obviously you liked Bela -”

“Probably more because of her body than anything else,” Charlie interrupts.

“- but you never got all...” she waves her hand around like he’s supposed to know what that means “- with her.”

“You guys are fucked,” he says dismissively.

Of course, because the timing couldn’t be worse with Dean’s hands full of pizza dough, his phone vibrates on the counter beside him and lights up with a text message. He tries to make a move for it, but Charlie’s closer and her hands aren’t covered in anything, so she wins, snatching up his phone and dashing away with it held close to her chest.

 _“Hello, Dean,”_ she reads aloud. _“I was wondering if you would like to join me for lunch tomorrow at Cup of Life as we discussed on our date?_ Does he always text like that?” she asks.

“Actually, yeah,” Dean says, amused despite his irritation that she read that text before him. Then his heart stops when he sees her deft fingers dancing over his keyboard, obviously typing out a reply. “Charlie -”

 _"Hey, Cas. I’d love to! I haven’t shut up about you since we had ice cream. Winky face_ ,” she says with an evil gleam in her eye, and before Dean can object he hears the whooshing sound that means she actually sent that message.

“You - you jerk!” he sputters. “I can’t believe you actually sent that!”

“It’s not like it isn’t true,” Charlie says between giggles.

“Come on, Charlie. Lay off. You’d _kill_ Dean if he ever did that to somebody you went out with,” Jo says, surprisingly taking Dean’s side.

“I’m spitting on your side of the pizza,” Dean says to Charlie, working out some of his frustration by kneading the dough a little harder than totally necessary.

“If he freaks out I’ll just call him and tell him it wasn’t you,” Charlie says breezily. “Just relax. Oh! He said, _I’m pleased to hear that considering I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either, smiley face_. Awww. That’s actually really cute.”

Dean thinks so too, and he wishes more than anything that he was in private when he read it, because there’s no stopping the way he blushes or the smile that flashes before he ducks his head and tries to fight it back. Cas hasn’t been able to stop thinking about him. That’s fucking awesome.

 _"That’s awesome, Cas_ _,”_ Charlie types, and Dean has to admire how well she knows him for taking the words right out of his head. “ _I’ll see you at noon?”_

“You’re seriously going to go to the same coffee shop where you had lunch with this guy’s twin for a second date?” Jo asks.

“Yeah,” Dean answers. “He knows I met Jimmy for the same thing. We agreed it’ll be cleansing,” he says with a quirk of his lips.

“Oh! _I’m looking forward to it_ ,” Charlie reads before her fingers tap out a reply. “ _Me too, Cas._ Wow, I should have my own dating show,” she says next.

Dean snorts. “Yeah, that was some magic,” he says sarcastically.

“Sounds like this Castiel guy is just as taken with you as you are with him,” Jo says.

“Can you grab the sauce out of the cupboard?” Dean says to Charlie. As soon as she puts his phone down he scoops it up - flour on his hands be damned - and puts it safely in his back pocket. “And yeah, Jo, I definitely got the feeling he was as into me as I was into him.”

“I have a feeling it’s gonna be just me and you a lot more than we’re used to over the next little bit, red,” Jo says to Charlie.

Dean frowns as he takes the can from Charlie. “Can’t we all hang out together?”

“You never did any other time you were dating. We barely even saw you at all when you were with Bela,” Charlie says, leaning against the counter.

“You _hated_ Bela,” Dean reminds her.

“Yeah, because she tried to stomp out every part of you that made us best friends, _including_ actually spending time together.”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes without saying anything before he starts opening the can with a handheld can opener. “I didn’t know that’s why you didn’t like her,” he finally says.

“Wasn’t about to tell you that when you were hypnotized by her vagina,” Charlie says half under her breath.

“She wasn’t even that good in bed,” Dean admits for the first time, getting shocked looks from both Jo and Charlie. “She was just really hot. Almost a year with her and I never felt the way Cas had me feel with a single kiss.”

“Oh here we go again,” Jo says good naturedly.

“Shut up or I won’t ask him to hang out with us this weekend.”

“Okay, okay, keep your panties on,” Charlie says, bouncing her eyebrows.

“Can we please not talk about _that_ again?” Jo asks with a look of disgust on her face. “I know way too much about your kinks, Winchester.”

“I’m with Jo,” Dean says. “Now get over here and put your shit on your pizza.”

Thursday morning drags by slower than he could have imagined, but finally, it’s noon. Dean pushes the front door of the bank open, watching over his shoulder as he holds it open for the person behind him, and as he rounds the corner he walks directly into Cas.

“Shit,” Dean says on an exhale. His expression of shock quickly gives way to a smile as he realizes his hands now lie on Cas’s broad chest and Cas’s hands have landed on his hips. “I just keep running into you.”

“This time was at least slightly intentional, as I was hoping to walk you down to _Cup of Life_ ,” Castiel says, his cheeks already flushed a bright pink. “I didn'tmean to _actually_ run into you though. Sorry about that.”

“Havin' a real hard time trying to think of a reason for you to be sorry right about now,” Dean says, moving his hands slowly up his chest and around his neck. He has to fight back the urge to slide his hands into his hair at the back of his neck. That’s probably too intimate for somebody he’s only hung out with once.

“May I kiss you, Dean?” Castiel asks him quietly.

Instead of answering verbally, Dean just lowers his mouth to brush his lips against Cas’s. Castiel’s fingers tighten on his hips while their lips cling to one another for a handful of seconds, and he sucks Dean’s lower lip between his before he swipes his tongue across it quickly and breaks their kiss. Dean licks his lip in response and his heart thunders in his chest when he tastes the minty flavor of toothpaste mixed with what must be Castiel’s natural flavor.

“Shit,” Dean sighs. He feels like he’s in a cartoon and a hundred little hearts are spinning around his head. He’s damn sure he’s never felt like this from a simple kiss in his life.

“I missed you,” Castiel admits quietly.

“You’re gonna make me blush,” Dean smiles, fully aware that his cheeks are already warm.

“You’re lovely when you blush,” Castiel says kindly, which doesn’t help his pink cheeks whatsoever.

Reluctantly, he takes a step back and runs his hand down Castiel’s arm - _hello, bicep_ \- until their fingers slide together. Without another word spoken, they start walking towards the coffee shop. Dean uses the comfortable silence between them to soak up the physical contact, basking in the way Castiel’s thumb brushes back and forth over the back of his hand like he can’t get enough of him, either.

He checks out Cas in his peripheral as they walk. He’s in black skinny jeans and a black and red checkered t-shirt that’s almost absurdly tight across his back and arms, showcasing just how fucking ripped he is. Dean himself is wearing black dress pants and a black button down, and he fights back a smile at how they unintentionally match.

“How was your morning at work?” Castiel asks as they walk into _Cup of Life._

“Thursdays are usually pretty busy because a lot of people get paid on Thursdays and Fridays. Today was the same, but it felt like it took for fucking ever to get to lunch time.”

Castiel answers with a squeeze of his hand before he says, “My morning dragged by as well.”

“Funny how that worked out,” Dean says sarcastically, earning himself another smile from Cas. “So since you’ve got an in here, what’s good?”

“If Jimmy asks, I said everything,” he whispers covertly. “But really, their BLTs, clubhouse, or roast beef on a bagel are my favorites.”

“Clubhouse sounds damn good to me,” Dean says.

“I’m going to go with the roast beef. What will you have to drink?”

“Just a Pepsi.”

“I’ll have the same.”

When it’s their turn, they’re greeted with a big, knowing smile from Jimmy. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

“I believe you know my date,” Castiel says, sliding a hand somewhat possessively around his waist. Dean and Jimmy share amused smiles.

“You don’t have to piss on him, Castiel, he's all yours,” Jimmy says with a laugh, which Dean’s lips also quirk at. “What’re you having today?”

Castiel orders for them both, and when he pulls out his wallet, Jimmy waves him away. “You know you don’t pay here.”

“And I thought ice cream was a cheap date,” Dean jokes.

Jimmy laughs and Castiel flushes as his shoulders sag. Dean’s about to say something - anything - to try to make him feel better, but Jimmy says, “We’ll bring it around when it’s ready.”

Cas leads the way to a table in the back corner and Dean takes the seat next to him and pulls it close enough so that he can tug Castiel’s hand into his lap. “You know I was teasing, right?” Dean asks him.

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel answers, but he still doesn’t sound particularly pleased.

“I like spending time with you. Doesn’t matter what it costs,” he says, which seems to soften him up a little bit. “How was your morning, Cas?”

The nickname softens him further, and that thumb of his starts working the back of his hand again. “Productive. I knew I would be much too anxious to begin anything new, so I did some lettering instead and it helped to pass the time.”

“You do the writing yourself, too?” Dean asks.

“No, just the lettering. It isn’t the same thing. This particular story was already written, so I’m just copying the words in my handwriting so it fits the style of the comic.”

“Can you tell me what you were working on, or is it top secret or somethin’?”

“It’s the beginning of what the author hopes to be a series about two women and a team of young misfit girls who fight the supernatural,” Castiel divulges.

“Cool. You get to draw monsters and stuff?”

“I haven’t yet, but I will.”

“I’d love to see that,” Dean says honestly.

“I would like that as well. Maybe someday soon,” Castiel offers.

“I know we pretty much just got here so feel free to tell me if I’m jumping the gun, but a couple of my friends were hoping we could all hang out this weekend if you’re not doing anything,” Dean says.

Castiel seems completely at ease again when he nods. “I am quite shy around new people, but I’d love the opportunity to meet your friends. What are they like?”

“Uh, well, Jo’s like my little sister. We basically grew up together because her mom, Ellen, was our after school and summer babysitter. She’s the same age as me so we always got along okay. And then there’s Charlie,” he grins just saying her name. “Charlie’s hard to describe. She’s kinda like a puppy in a human body. Adorable as hell and just bursting with energy all the time, getting all excited for no reason and knocking shit over,” he tries to explain. “She’s also hands down the nerdiest person I’ve ever met.”

“Ah, but you don’t know me that well yet,” Castiel teases.

“We’ve got time,” Dean says with a smile.

“We do. I meant it when I said I’ve been thinking about you a lot. It’s been a very long time since I felt this kind of potential with somebody.”

“Potential,” Dean echoes curiously. “What’re you hopin’ I’ll be in the future?”

“Mine,” Castiel answers simply. Those deep blue eyes lock onto his and just like that, the air begins to thicken between them. Dean has to swallow before he can find his voice to speak.

“You always this forward on a second date?” Dean asks, trying to ignore the way he feels pulled into Cas like a magnet.

“Never,” Castiel responds. “Am I coming on too strong?”

Dean wavers before he answers. If it was anybody else on a second date who said something like that, he’d probably think so... but for some reason, he doesn’t. “I should probably say yes, but the real answer is no,” he reveals.

“Will you tell me if I do?” Castiel asks, pinning him with his gaze.

Dean nods. “Yeah. I’m not one of those guys who’s just gonna stop answering your texts or something.”

Castiel offers him a small smile. “I’m glad. I will admit I’m still puzzled over how you’re single when you seem to be a nice guy with a face like yours.”

“C’mon Cas, you’re gonna give me a big head over here,” Dean responds, but he’s smiling at his praise. “Honestly, it’s not like I didn’t have offers. I just wasn’t really ready to date again after my last girlfriend fucked me over.”

“Do you mind if I ask what happened there?”

Dean blows out a stream of air. “It’s a bit of a story, but it boiled down her to sleeping with somebody else behind my back.”

Castiel shakes his head in apparent disbelief, tightening his grip on Dean’s hand briefly. “I could see you being the person somebody would cheat _with_ , but _on?_  How could she want anybody else when you’re so breathtaking?”

“Jeez, you’re good for the ego, man,” Dean says lightly, though his cheeks are definitely heating up all over again.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says immediately. “I’m making you uncomfortable.”

“No, that ain’t it. I’m just not used to people saying stuff like that about me.”

Castiel frowns. “I find that hard to believe.”

Dean gives him a small eye roll. “I’ve had people tell me I’m hot and guys making comments about what they’d wanna do to me, yeah. But you -” Dean shrugs with one shoulder. “I dunno. The way you talk about me is different. You say shit like I’m breathtaking and beautiful, and believe me, nobody’s ever said anything _like that_ to me before.”

“Well in that case, I’m glad I get to be the first one to praise you without being crass,” Castiel says.

Castiel squares his shoulders, and the next second, he hears Jimmy coming from behind him. “Special delivery,” Jimmy says happily, placing a plate in front of each of them.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Castiel says.

“Looks damn good,” Dean comments.

He takes a drink of the soda Jimmy places down next and Jimmy asks, “How’s the second date going?”

“Very well,” Castiel answers.

“No complaints on my end. I’m already angling for a third date this weekend,” Dean says, looking at Cas.

“You know you’re going to have to stop holding hands to eat sandwiches, right?” Jimmy asks, obviously amused.

Castiel scowls at him and Dean says, “Don’t worry, baby, we can still play footsies under the table.” He adds an over exaggerated wink and when Jimmy tips his head back and laughs, Castiel can’t keep a straight face as he untangles their fingers.

“I knew I liked you for a reason,” Castiel flirts.

“Yeah, because he looks like he’s 18,” Jimmy laughs.

“ _Jimmy_ ,” Castiel says sharply.

“Don’t worry about it, Cas. He’s just tryin’ to embarrass you - it’s what big brothers do. Besides, these cheekbones aren’t goin’ anywhere no matter how old I am,” he says lightly, causing both brothers to laugh. “Now you get back to work and let me keep charming your brother,” he says to Jimmy.

“Alright, no making out in my coffee shop, though, or I’ll bring the hose around,” Jimmy says, reaching over to mess up Castiel’s hair and dodging the way Cas swats at him before he takes off still laughing.

“I’m so sorry about that, Dean. I foolishly thought that because Jimmy already knew you, he would be mature enough to see me on a date and not act that way for once. I should have known better,” he says, trying to fix his hair.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” Dean says, spinning his plate to try to find the best angle to pick up his sandwich. “I’m a big brother too, remember? I get it.” He bites into his sandwich and lets out an appreciative little sound. “‘s good,” he says, his food chipmunked into his cheek as he chews.

Castiel smiles but drops his eyes to his own sandwich. He says, “I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” before he digs in himself. They both eat in silence for a few minutes before Dean takes a break for a drink and asks the question he’s sure Cas knows is coming.

“So tell me about the meaning behind Jimmy’s _he looks like he’s eighteen_ comment.” Castiel struggles to clear his throat and pats at his chest, causing Dean to chuckle. “Sorry, I should’ve led into that better. Didn’t mean to make you literally choke.”

Having now recovered, Castiel waves it away. “It’s fine, really. It’s just more of what we were talking about over ice cream.”

“How you like that I’m smaller than you,” Dean supplies.

“Yes. As I said then, I have a particular type that I’m drawn to.”

“I got that, but I thought it was more to do with being, ya know, _lean_ than it was with how old I am.”

“It is,” Castiel assures him. “It’s just that the things I’m most attracted to in men - at least based on a purely physical level - are usually found in younger men.”

“Do I wanna know?” Dean asks.

Castiel smiles kindly. “That depends on how comfortable you are with your body and masculinity.”

Dean turns his lips down in what he likes to think of as a mouth shrug. “I think I’m good. Hit me with it.”

“As I said before, you’re beautiful, Dean. I happen to like that you’re beautiful and not rugged and manly. You have long eyelashes, high cheekbones, and the most adorable smattering of freckles across your nose that I’ve ever seen in my life. Your lips -” Dean licks them subconsciously and sees Castiel track the movement hungrily with his eyes. “I thought they were lush long before I was lucky enough to feel them. Your face was so smooth; your skin so soft. You hold strength in your upper body, but your hips are tapered and slender and I find it incredibly sexy how well they fit in my hands.” Dean nods, okay enough with everything he’s said so far that his mouth’s a little dry. “Usually, the older men get, the less all of those things apply to them.”

“I know I’ve got feminine features or whatever,” Dean says reluctantly.

“Soft features. Not feminine," Castiel corrects him. "I’m not attracted to females.”

“K, well still. My face is only so smooth because I have to shave every day for work. It’s a rule. On the weekends, though, I’ve got some scruff. Is that gonna be an issue for you?”

“No, of course not! That’s why I said this was just purely physical."

"Well, what if - say this works out and we stay together a while," he says, his cheeks burning at even mentioning that on a second date. "You still gonna be attracted to me when I'm forty and don't have such a baby face anymore?"

"As you said earlier, those cheekbones of yours aren't going anywhere," Castiel says, smiling softly. "Honestly though, Dean, it’s the man you are behind your beauty that had me thinking about you so much the last few days."

“Hm. You sure you weren’t just thinking about that kiss?” Dean says, taking another bite of his sandwich. He isn't entirely sure how he feels about this and he wants to change the subject so he can think about it later.

“Oh, I was thinking about that, too,” he says, still smiling. “But it was how funny you are, and how we talked for an hour about Led Zeppelin, and how you didn’t just let me say what my favorite songs were, you asked intelligent questions about the music and why it resonated with me. You made me think about songs that I’ve been listening to for a decade in a way I’ve never thought about them before. I was enchanted by who you are. The package you’re in is just a nice bonus.”

That’s far and away some of the nicest stuff anybody’s ever said to him, and it puts him back on even footing. It sounds like Cas is really into him, and considering how much he’s enjoyed their time together so far, he’s damn happy about that.

Castiel is taking the chance his silence provides by digging into his lunch again, and Dean just lets the renewed happiness hang in the air as they both work on eating. Having had quite a large head start while Cas was turning him into a puddle of mush, he finishes his sandwich first, and takes another drink before he leans back in his seat.

“Guess it isn’t easy to find guys who fit into your preferred type the older you get, huh?” Dean asks. Castiel nods and swallows his bite. “No wonder you were so anxious to go out with me.”

Castiel smiles and wipes the crumbs from his mouth with a napkin. “I felt the need to see if we would be compatible before somebody else got the chance first, that’s true.”

“So far, I’m glad you did,” Dean says.

“It’s incredibly easy to talk to you.”

Dean grins. “Well, my kid brother could talk anybody’s ear off if you let him, so I guess I got lots of practice listening.”

“It sounds like you’re very close.”

“Extremely close. We always got along well, and then it was just me and him for the last couple of years, so we got even closer. It’s actually really good timing that you and me met now, ‘cause now I have something distracting me from missing him,” Dean says, surprising himself with his honesty even as it comes out of his mouth.

“Jimmy mentioned that you just moved into your own apartment for the first time.”

“Two weeks on Saturday,” Dean confirms.

“How do you like it so far?”

“I dunno. I keep telling people I’m fine...” He lets his voice trail off and finishes his sentence with a shrug.

“But you’re not?”

His hand finds its way to Castiel’s knee, and Castiel covers it with his before he links their fingers together. His voice comes out small when he says, “Gets lonely sometimes, you know?”

“I do,” Castiel replies, and maybe he’s projecting, but he’s pretty sure he sees understanding shining back at him in Castiel’s eyes. “Sometimes my apartment feels like a mansion.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Castiel confirms. “It’s been better since I started fostering cats though. Maybe you should get a pet.”

“You foster cats?” Dean asks, completely sidetracked with the memory of the little orange fluff ball.

“I have two kittens at home right now,” he says with a smile.

“Seriously? How old are they?”

“Not quite eight weeks old. Their mother didn’t survive the birth.”

“Aw,” Dean says, his mouth falling into a pout.

“Dean,” Castiel says softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement. He lifts his hand to trace his bottom lip with his thumb. “That pout is undoubtedly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up,” Dean says lightly, smacking his hand away. “Did you name them?”

“I did.”

“Well don’t leave me hanging!” Dean urges him.

Castiel's eyes are still shining with amusement. "One is pure black with short hair, but the orange one has this crazy fuzzy hair, and I was trying to think of names that go well in pairs... and my brother had just told me about this weird customer who asked him to write Batman on his cup...”

Dean’s eyes widen and he squeezes Castiel’s hand. “Don’t even tell me you have a black kitten named Batman at home right now.”

“With his sidekick Robin,” Castiel confirms, blushing but smiling.

“Oh my god! How are you this perfect?” Castiel laughs outright now, shaking his head in denial. “I wanna meet Batman and Robin!”

“Batman is very stealthy -”

“Naturally,” Dean interrupts, making Castiel laugh again.

“- and rarely comes out of hiding.”

“If you tell me he has a little Batman cape I might drop down onto one knee right here in your brother’s coffee shop,” Dean deadpans.

Castiel’s still smiling with his nose crinkling adorably when he tugs Dean forward by his hand, and Dean lets his upper body move closer to him so that Castiel can lean in to capture his lips again. Castiel cups his face with his palm, reminding him of their first kiss, and he makes a small sound of happiness against Castiel’s lips where they meet his.

Castiel groans before he pulls away. “You’re terribly hard to resist,” he says with his voice low and his eyes glued to Dean's lips.

And god, the way Dean _wants_ him is almost overwhelming. He’s never had this kind of chemistry with anybody before - and Cas hasn’t even _really_ kissed him yet.

“You’re doing a pretty good job so far,” Dean replies. “Maybe too good.”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

Dean leans in to kiss him again quickly, nipping at his bottom lip and soothing it with a swipe of his tongue. He stays nice and close, turning his head to whisper into his ear as he says, “Overrated.”

Castiel’s voice comes out in a deep sigh when he says, _“Dean."_

“Just sayin’,” Dean chuckles, backing away.

He flinches when he feels something hit his face, and looks around to see a scrunched up napkin in front of him and Jimmy grinning from a few steps away. “Unless you’re playing hooky this afternoon, Casanova over here’s gonna make you late for work.”

Dean digs his phone out of his pocket and sees it’s ten to one.

“Holy shit, that flew by,” Dean says to Cas. Then to Jimmy, “Thanks for the heads up. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“I might have the baker give cherry a shot.” Dean groans at the very thought. He opens his mouth to start begging, but Jimmy holds up a hand and stops him. “I’m on it, don’t start crying.”

“Thank you for lunch, Jimmy,” Castiel says. As his back is turned to Dean, Dean sticks his tongue out at Jimmy.

“I’m sure I’ll see you two lovebirds soon,” Jimmy grins, and with that, he and Cas both get to their feet and walk out of the store. He stops once he’s clear of the door and guides Cas to the edge of the sidewalk so he can say goodbye. As soon as they stop moving, Castiel’s hands rest on his hips. His lips quirk when he thinks about how Cas gets turned on by how tiny they are compared to his.

“You don’t gotta walk me back, man, I know your apartment’s the other way,” Dean offers.

“I would anyway, but the cats aren’t supposed to be alone that long.”

“What about Tuesday?” They’d definitely been out for more than an hour for ice cream.

“I may have lost track of time,” he confesses sheepishly.

“Apparently we do that,” he smirks. “Thanks for taking me out for lunch.”

“I enjoyed myself,” Castiel says. “I hope you did too, because I would like to see you again.”

“Yeah, Cas, I want that, too. I really gotta get back to work though, and I want another kiss before I go.”

“Thank god,” Castiel says, instantly closing the small gap between them and taking his lips in a passionate kiss. This time, Castiel’s lips part, prompting his to open in response, and Dean’s fingers grip onto Castiel’s t-shirt for dear life as Castiel licks into his mouth and begins taking him apart with one gentle flick of his tongue after another.

Wanting to be even closer, Dean forces his hands to slide up his chest. He loops his arms around his neck and melts into him, letting Castiel’s strong body take the majority of his weight and feeling a swoop of excitement in his stomach when Cas doesn’t even flinch. He holds him up like he weighs almost nothing, and he has visions of jumping into his arms and wrapping his legs around his waist while Cas carries him to his bedroom.

He whimpers needily when Castiel’s tongue slips out of his mouth, earning him one more, almost brutally hard press of their lips together before Castiel tears himself away. They both stare at each other, blinking and breathing hard, and if what Cas looks like is any indication of what _he_ looks like, they both look like they just had a quickie somewhere.

“Jesus christ. That was a hell of a kiss,” Dean blurts.

“You should go to work before I toss you over my shoulder and keep you in my bed for the next - oh, twenty years or so should do it,” Castiel says, obviously trying to crack a joke but looking like he’s a second away from actually trying it.

Dean wisely takes a step away, knowing he wouldn’t protest in the least. “I’ll text you after work, okay?”

Castiel nods. “Yeah. Have a good afternoon.”

Dean nods, too, then turns to walk away to go back to work, even though every fiber of his being is telling him not to.


	6. Chapter 6

He does have a good afternoon. How can he not when he feels like he’s walking on air? He gets comments from all of his coworkers about how it looks like he has a hanger in his mouth since he can't stop smiling, but he doesn’t even care because he’s dating a ridiculously hot guy with cats named Batman and Robin.

He’s never really been a cat guy before, other than watching the cute cat videos Charlie sends him occasionally, but he remembers seeing Cas play with Robin through the window with the feather and he feels an odd sort of affection towards the little thing.

He remains in a good mood that evening as he eats leftover pizza right out of the fridge while talking to Sam on the phone. He tells him all about Cas, and for the first time, Sam mentions a girl named Eileen who he thinks is cute. Dean pokes and prods, but all he gets out of him is that she’s beautiful, they share a few classes, and he’s starting to learn sign language so he can talk to her better.

He stands at the window, looking into Cas’s apartment while he and Sam talk, but he doesn’t see Cas or either of his cats. Actually, come to think of it, he hasn’t gotten any good window material in a few days now. For some reason, he keeps looking over there anyway.

Bad habits are hard to break, apparently.

When he and Sam finally hang up over forty-five minutes later, he feels loneliness crash into him like a bus. He picks up Harry Potter, hoping to lose himself in the familiar story, but tonight, even that’s not working.

He texts Cas, but doesn’t get a reply right away, so without even knowing where he’s going, he grabs his keys and his wallet and heads out of the apartment.

He was thinking he’d just take a drive, but he ends up walking towards the coffee shop with no intentions of actually going inside. Serendipity must be on his side today, because he’s barely walked five minutes when he sees Cas awkwardly waving at him from across the street. Seeing as he has his hands full of bags, Dean makes his way over to him.

“Hey, Cas, let me give you a hand,” he offers, reaching to take what ends up being a huge bag of cat food.

“Thank you, Dean. This is a nice surprise. Where are you off to?” Castiel asks as Dean falls into step beside him.

“Honestly had no idea. Just needed to get out of the house and be around other people, you know?” he replies. Castiel hums his agreement. “Worked out well though, ‘cause now I get to help you carry this stuff home. That’s where you’re headed, right?”

“Yes, but you don’t have to help me carry it. I had it okay.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I want to. You’d do it for me,” Dean points out.

“I suppose I can’t argue with that,” he replies. “And honestly, the cat food was slightly awkward to carry in one hand.”

“Next time just call me and I’ll go with you. Or, you know, you could drive instead,” he says on a laugh.

“It’s harder than you might think to drive an imaginary vehicle,” Castiel answers, also laughing.

“You don’t have a car?” Dean asks, struck stupid.

“Nope. Everything I need is within walking distance, and if I need something else, I can always bug Jimmy.”

“Well add me to the list of people to bug. I _love_ driving, so anytime you need a ride, I’m there.”

“I appreciate that Dean, thank you.” There’s a few minutes of comfortable silence while they walk the rest of the way back to Castiel’s apartment. Dean holds the front door of the apartment building open for him, and follows Cas into the elevator. “Do you have plans this evening?” Castiel asks once the elevator reaches the second floor.

“Now that you’ve cut my wandering around aimlessly plan short, nope, not a thing,” Dean asks, hope already starting to make his heart race.

“You’re welcome to stay and spend some more time together if you’d like. I know we already saw each other at lunch, so I understand if you’re not interested -”

Dean snorts as Castiel fiddles with the doorknob. “Are you seriously getting the vibe that I might not be interested in spending more time with you?”

Castiel smiles as he pushes the door open. “No, not really.”

“Good. ‘Cause I’m definitely in.”

Castiel kicks his shoes off and leaves them on a little tray beside the door, so Dean follows his lead, and then follows him into the kitchen. It’s all kinds of weird seeing his apartment from this vantage point. His apartment’s actually way bigger than it looks from the window (and that may be the creepiest thing he’s ever thought), and he can finally see the way the rest of the place pans out, with the kitchen and the hallway both down the right side - or left, if you’re looking from the window.

“You can just put the cat food down in here,” Castiel says, bringing him back to earth.

“Sorry, I spaced out there for a sec.” He crosses to the kitchen and places the cat food in the cupboard where Cas is holding the door open.

“I noticed. I was wondering if my apartment was scary enough to send you running for the hills,” Castiel teases.

“Well it is scarily clean. You murder people then have to clean up the evidence or something?”

Castiel scoffs, “Only that one time.” Dean laughs at his dry humor, and Castiel looks awfully proud of himself. “Can I get you something to drink?”

“Sure, I did walk all of fifteen minutes without a break. Kinda worked up a thirst,” he jokes.

“I have water, orange juice, soda, and beer.”

“If I say beer are you gonna think I’m a drunk?”

“I was leaning towards beer myself, so we can be drunk together,” Castiel smiles.

Dean chuckles. _“That_ sounds like trouble.”

Castiel just grins as he hands him two bottles of beer, then pulls up his shirt a little and reaches for his belt buckle. Dean’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but he gets it when he sees the beer opener on the underside of his belt. How cool is that?

“Well that’s handy,” Dean comments.

“I’d say belty,” Castiel quips and Dean groans in response.

“And to think I just thought how cool you were.”

Castiel laughs and says, “I’m glad I didn’t let you think that for long. Now open the beer.”

As Dean gets permission to look at the general area of his belt buckle without looking like a creeper, he notices a dark trail of hair leading below his waistband and feels a bolt of desire go straight to his dick.

Hell, it’s been way too long since he’s been laid.

He knows better than to linger on that train of thought, so he concentrates on opening their beers one at a time without making an ass of himself, then looks up through his eyelashes at Cas for his approval.

His throat runs dry when he sees the way Cas’s eyes are significantly darker than they were before he was in the belt area, and he meets him halfway when Cas leans in for a kiss without hesitation. Castiel’s free hand lands on his hip, which Dean has come to expect now, except this time it slides along behind him to rest on the small of his back where he pulls him in until their groins meet. Dean reaches blindly for the counter and miraculously finds it on the first shot so he can ditch his beer bottle and get his hands on Cas. Like earlier, he winds his arms around his neck, and finally feels their bodies pressed against each other as close as they can be.

For the first time, they don’t have to worry about an audience, about being in public, or being anything but absolutely _alone_. And holy shit is Cas taking advantage of it by thrusting his tongue into his mouth hot and dirty. He must have lost his beer bottle along the way, too, because there’s still one hand on his lower back, but now there’s another one stroking up his spine, making Dean arch into his touch like a cat.

Castiel makes a sound low in his throat, and then Dean’s lifted and spun around so that his back is pressed up against the counter. When he inhales sharply, Cas just plunders into his mouth deeper, curling his tongue against his so fucking perfectly Dean’s hands tighten on the ends of his silky hair threaded through his fingers. He feels Castiel work a thigh between his legs and he breaks their kiss to moan when he can feel Castiel’s hardening erection against his pelvis. Castiel’s mouth finds his neck, leaving hot and wet kisses along it while his fingers dig into his hips.

Dean moans again when he feels teeth scrape against his skin. Castiel’s incredibly talented lips have coaxed him to hardness and past the point of rational thought already, and his hips thrust forwards, searching for the friction he wants so desperately.

Castiel’s mouth stops working as he drops his forehead on to Dean’s shoulder with a heavy breath, meeting the next roll of his hips. Dean somehow finds higher brain function and drags his own lips down Castiel’s sharp jawline rough with stubble that’s been driving him crazy since he first saw it.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps.

“Mmm,” Dean replies, not at all willing to drag his lips away from the taste of his skin.

“We should stop.”

“Fuck no we shouldn’t,” Dean disagrees, but he backs away enough to look him in the face to confirm, and yeah, it doesn’t look like Cas wants to stop anymore than he does. So he takes a chance and asks for what he really wants. “You should bring me into your bedroom and fuck me.”

“Dean,” Castiel says again, his voice so rough it’s almost a growl. It spurs Dean to capture his lips to take control of a dirty kiss, pushing him back enough so he can turn and start tugging him down the hall towards where he assumes his bedroom is. He almost crashes into a wall, but Cas pulls him back and starts leading the way himself. Castiel tears his lips away to say, “I never sleep with people this fast.”

Dean kisses his way under his jaw and down over his Adam’s apple. “I don’t care,” he says immediately. “You want me, right?”

He can feel the vibration in his throat when he groans. “I want you more than anything.”

Dean slides his hand between them and rubs it over the significant bulge between Castiel’s legs. “Yeah, feels like -”

But that’s all he gets out of him because Castiel gets his hands on Dean’s ass and squeezes so hard he’s brought to the balls of his feet and finishes on something like sounds like, “Iiii-ahhh! _Fuck,_ yes.” And the next thing he knows, Cas lifts him up off of the ground and he has his legs wrapped around his waist. Cas is lifting him like he weighs damn near nothing, not faltering a single step as he carries him towards the bedroom, and Dean feels his cock harden impossibly further at the display of raw strength. His head is spinning with unprecedented lust when Castiel starts sucking a mark on to his neck.

“Shit, _fuck_ , no marks where people can see them. God damn, your mouth, Cas,” he praises him. “Literally anywhere else.”

Castiel’s hands have pushed their way up his shirt and the feel of his big hands on his bare skin is enough to have Dean rutting against Castiel’s stomach. “Fuck, you’re so ripped. So strong. I am so fucking hard for you.”

They must have reached his bedroom, because Cas deposits him on the edge of a bed where he instantly has him flat on his back with his shirt rucked up to his armpits so his lips can start a trail of fire down his chest and to his stomach. His fingers are already working on Dean’s jeans, popping the button and dragging the zipper down. Dean lifts his hips and Castiel pulls his jeans off entirely (along with his socks) before he dives back in and has his mouth on his hip bone. He can feel the sting of the hickey Cas is sucking into his skin and moans through his encouragement.

“Yeah, just like that, Cas. _Unh.”_

Dean writhes under him until Cas is apparently satisfied with his claim on his skin and pulls him back up into a sitting position to pull Dean’s shirt up over his head.

“Got you on board pretty fast,” Dean says happily.

Castiel pauses, his shoulders heaving, his lips swollen from the attack on Dean’s body. “We can still stop.”

“You stop now and I’m gonna have blue balls for the rest of my damn life,” Dean says with a grin.

Castiel answers with a grin of his own and leans in to kiss him, surprisingly soft compared to the last few minutes. “I can’t resist you.”

“Stop trying.”

Castiel’s hands rest on his shoulders and run along his arms and over his chest reverently, all while he looks down at Dean with so much desire in his eyes it’s as if Dean can feel himself burning from the inside out. “I don’t want this to just be sex.”

“It’s not,” Dean promises. “Not for me.” Castiel nods shyly and Dean says, “How ‘bout we even out the clothing situation, yeah? I’ve been dying to see what you’ve got under that shirt.”

Castiel smirks as his hands grip the hem of his t-shirt and slowly peels it off his body. The very first thing Dean thinks is _muscles,_ immediately followed by, “Holy shit.” Which actually comes out of his mouth. “You have your nipples pierced.”

Castiel’s lips quirk like he’s trying to hold back a laugh and he says, “Yeah, I was there.”

“Why is that so fucking hot?” he asks, his eyes glued to the tiny barbells he has through each nipple. “Can I touch them?”

“I really hope you do,” Castiel answers. “They’re extremely sensitive.”

Dean hasn’t been with a guy who likes having his nipples played with before. His hands start on Castiel’s washboard stomach, which makes his jaw go slack as he presses his palms into the firm muscles there, and slowly (okay, _really_ slowly because _holy_ _shit)_ moves them up to his pecks. He brushes his thumbs across each pebbled nipple and already gets a soft gasp of pleasure from Cas just from that. Without another thought, he scooches forwards and lowers his mouth to run his tongue over one of them. Castiel moans loudly, his fingers tightening on his shoulders, and Dean laps at it again, incredibly intrigued by the cold metal against his tongue. He closes his mouth around the small peak and sucks, feeling the suction pull his nipple and the barbell further into his mouth.

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel groans, prompting Dean to tease the piercing between his teeth. He gets another needy sound from Cas and he feels a powerful wave of arousal course through him.

He fucking loves this (and by the sounds of things, so does Cas) and it’s twice as hot knowing he’s spurring them both on with every flick of his tongue. He lingers for so long he can feel the metal now warm from his mouth, and he knows when he pulls away Cas’s nipple’s going to be red and swollen with blood he’s sucked to the surface. When he opens his eyes to look up at Cas, he has his chin resting on his chest with mouth hanging open, watching Dean like he’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Unable to refuse those pink lips waiting for him, he trails up his chest and opens his mouth to Cas when he catches his lips in another kiss and pushes him back down onto the bed.

He feels a hand slide behind his back and then he’s hefted up into the center of the bed. Castiel props himself up on one elbow, and Dean uses what little space there is between their bodies to undo his belt and pop open his fly, lower his zipper, and start pushing his jeans down his hips. They don’t go too far though before Castiel laughs a little as he backs away and stands up.

“Detriment of skinny jeans,” Castiel explains, pushing them down with several wiggles of his hips. Dean pushes up to his elbows so he doesn’t miss it while Castiel reveals those ridiculously thick thighs of his, but is surprised to see incredibly short boxer briefs he’s only ever seen in gay porn, and what looks like a very nice cock hard and waiting for him inside.

“How are you this hot?” he asks.

Castiel laughs nervously and shakes his head as he pulls the jeans over his feet, which causes him to stumble awkwardly and hop on one foot to keep from losing his balance. Thankfully he catches himself on the edge of the bed, but Dean can see the way his face is burning. Cas lifts his eyes to him - where he zeroes in on how Dean is pressing his lips into a tight line so he doesn’t laugh at this clumsy but gorgeous specimen in front of him - and Castiel pins him with a pouty glare that’s somehow equal parts sexy, adorable, and hilarious, before he pounces on him.

Dean can’t hold in the laugh that bubbles out of him as Cas pins him to the bed, and Cas kisses him quickly before asking, “You think that’s funny?”

“I wasn’t laughing until you looked at me like that!” he defends.

“You were laughing at me with your eyes,” Castiel argues, clearly teasing him.

“Not my fault you’re clumsy,” Dean says, running his hands down his back and getting a handful of his ass. “And people falling is funny!”

“I _did not_ fall,” Castiel points out, lining their clothed cocks up and pressing down on top of Dean.

Dean lets out a needy sound as he feels his cock twitch with anticipation, but he still says, “Only because you caught yourself on the bed, ya nerd.”

Castiel captures his lips in a bruising kiss, scraping his teeth along his bottom lip and biting down sharply before pulling away. “Just for that, I get to come first.”

Dean snorts. “Good luck with that.”

Castiel finally breaks on a laugh and hitches Dean’s leg up around his waist, starting a quick and dirty rhythm of rutting against him while his mouth goes right back down to his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest. His lips keep moving down, down, down, and soon their limbs are no longer wrapped together, but Cas is pulling off Dean’s boxers and kissing his way back up the inside of his leg.

Just as he reaches where his leg meets his hip and Dean’s almost whining with anticipation, he stops and asks, “You’re not going to give me syphilis, are you?”

He lets out a huff of laughter and says, “No. I got tested after my ex cheated on me and I was clean.” Castiel sucks on the skin at the vee of his leg and he lets out another needy sound before he can keep going. “And I haven’t been with anybody since.”

“Good enough for me,” Castiel says, and then Dean’s obviously died and gone to Heaven because his cock is engulfed in the most perfectly hot, wet heat he can ever remember feeling in his life. Castiel slides down his cock like a fucking porn star, taking in almost all of him all at once, and dragging sounds from him he’s sure he’s never made before.

“Jesus fucking shit,” he rasps, burying his hands in Castiel’s crazy hair as his eyes roll up in his head. God, it’s been way too long since anybody’s sucked his cock and it feels unbelievable. “Feels so good, Cas, you have no idea.”

Castiel pulls up and swirls his tongue around the crown before he tongues over his slit and sinks back down, pressing his tongue firmly along the sensitive underside as he goes. He pulls back up and off, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses along his shaft, concentrating on his frenulum and finding all of the spots he’s most sensitive while his hand keeps stroking him.

Cas is making the hottest little sounds, too. Humming and groaning with that deep voice like he can’t get enough of him, and he’s so damn vocal about enjoying this that Dean lets out his own sounds of appreciation. His hands are twisting in the sheets now and as talented as Castiel’s lips are, it’s taking all of his willpower not to beg for the slick tunnel of Cas’s mouth back around him. Like Cas can read his mind, he makes eye contact as he wraps those pink lips around his cock again and sinks almost all the way down slowly.

Blue eyes lock onto his as Castiel hollows his cheeks, sucking hard on the way back up and causing the final thread of Dean’s control to snap. He bucks into his mouth with a gasp at the slippery sensation of his cock sliding further inside. Castiel moans his approval, sealing his lips around him and sending vibrations down Dean’s cock as Dean fucks into the silky warmth. Watching his thick cock wet with spit and precome disappear between the thin pink line of Castiel’s lips while he can _feel_ the heated gaze of his blue eyes trained on him is fucking erotic, and he finds himself suddenly teetering on the edge of his orgasm.

“Woah, woah, woah. You are way too good at that.” Castiel hums and Dean can feel the heat pooling at the base of his cock. “Cas, you gotta stop man,” he warns him. Castiel shakes his head slightly and sinks back down lightning fast, bobbing up and down quickly and tonguing at his cockhead on the way up all while he works the bottom half of his cock with his hand. Dean’s cock is dripping with his spit and the suction and friction is too fucking good to resist.

He starts to feel panic bubble up in him along with his orgasm but he still can’t stop shoving his cock into Castiel’s perfect mouth. Cas looks like every dirty fantasy he’s ever had, and he’s reminded suddenly that he doesn’t want to come yet, he wants Cas to fuck him so he can come clenching around his cock.

That train of thought doesn’t help anything at all and he’s balancing on the razor’s edge of pleasure when he lets his name out on a whine. “Cas - seriously - I’m gonna -” Castiel and looks up at him with those blue eyes darkened with lust, and just keeps going. Dean has no idea how one hand ended up gripping Cas’s long hair on the top of his head, subconsciously guiding him into the perfect rhythm. His other hand is on his jaw, stubble rough beneath his palm and thumb on his lips, tracing the spit slick skin pulled taut around him. When Cas sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks he can feel the smooth slide of his cock through his cheek and it’s so fucking erotic everything inside of him tightens in anticipation of coming hard down his throat.

“Cas! _Oh fuck,_ Cas -” he tries to warn him one more time, but Cas pulls up to the tip and swirls his tongue once more and Dean feels heat rush through him like lava from a volcano. He can’t catch his breath, his fingers clamp down in Castiel’s hair and he tries to pull him off, but Cas sinks down even further instead. Castiel takes him in so far he can feel his cock push through the tight tunnel of his throat, drawing a surprised yelp of unparalleled pleasure from Dean right as he swallows around him. He makes a wet choking sound as he does it and Dean goes off like a rocket.

He means to pull Cas up again, but his hips jackknife forwards as his body locks up and the suction is too fucking perfect to even think about pulling away from. He floods Castiel’s mouth with cum as one strangled cry after another is torn from his lips. Castiel makes a low sound of pleasure and he can fucking his see his throat working to swallow down his load, and he’s sure the sight alone milks another pulse of cum out of him as he falls back onto the bed absolutely wrecked.

“Holy fuck,” Dean gasps, trying to get his breathing under control. His vision is blurry he came so fucking hard. He can’t even _think_. Castiel still suckling gently on the tip of his sensitive cock draws a whine out of him as he thrusts forwards again eagerly into the almost painful side of overstimulated.

Castiel lets Dean’s softening cock slip out from between his lips and wipes off his mouth with the back of his hand.

Finally, he finds the brain power to form words. “I just came embarrassingly fast,” he admits. “You - you did not have to do that, man.”  

“You were making the most arousing little sounds, I didn’t want to stop. And I wanted to taste you.”

Dean covers his face with his hands, overwhelmed with desire all over again from hearing Cas admit he wanted to swallow. “You’re going to kill me.” Castiel laughs and lies himself down beside Dean on the bed, his erection hard as a damn rock against his thigh. “Guess I better return the favor, huh? Especially since you couldn’t resist me and let me come first after all.”

A flash of confusion crosses Castiel’s face. “I’ll never say no to that mouth of yours, Dean, but that isn’t what you asked for earlier.”

Dean’s brain comes to a screeching halt. “You still wanna fuck me?”

“If you’re still agreeable,” Castiel responds, leaning in to kiss him softly. “But we don’t have to if you’re not in the mood anymore.”

“Oh hell yes we do,” Dean disagrees. It’s been way too damn long since he’s been filled by an actual cock, and he’s not turning this down for anything. “You got condoms?” Castiel chuckles softly at his enthusiasm and sits up to reach into his nightstand where he comes out with a condom and lube, holding them up for Dean to see. “Perfect. Now get in me,” Dean prompts him with an eyebrow waggle.

Castiel lies back down beside him and nudges his head towards him to kiss him slow and deep, plundering his tongue into his mouth sensually. Dean can taste his own release in his mouth and responds to it by straining his body towards him for more, wanting to feel Castiel’s cock hard against him again. They push against each other while their mouths drive each other crazy until he can’t take it anymore and pulls Cas back on top of him where he belongs.

He lets out a low moan at the feeling of being pinned down by a heavy wall of muscle, squirming below him just to feel his weight hold him down. Castiel, being the nice guy he is, backs off to give him some space. “No,” Dean says, his voice rough all over again. He pulls him back down and makes a sound of pleasure when Castiel’s hips hold his down. “Like feeling you like this.”

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Castiel responds before he crashes their lips together again and kisses Dean until he’s breathless and arching against him. Castiel breaks their kiss with a gasp of his name and starts trailing his mouth and hands all over his skin. Something about those big hands makes him feel small and powerless and he fucking _loves_ it. Cas pays special attention to his pecks, his neck and collarbone, and of course, his hips, causing his nerve endings to come alive all at once and making him feel like he’s tingling everywhere.

He traces those long, capable fingers along Dean’s already half-hard cock, and makes a sound of surprise against the divot of his hip. He massages his balls in the palm of his hand - _fuck yes_ , women never pay enough attention to that - before he runs a single digit along his perineum and down his crack.

Dean can’t hold in a needy moan and Castiel’s teeth clamp down into his skin, everything working together to have his cock filling all over again.

Castiel keeps his finger where it is, just ghosting over his pucker, and moves up his body to take his lips once more. Each time he moves his finger over and around his hole, Dean lets out a sound of pleasure and soon all he can do is breathe into Castiel’s mouth as Castiel sucks on his lips.

“Can you turn over for me, beautiful?” Castiel asks quietly.

The endearment warms something deep inside his chest and reminds him what Cas said earlier, _I don’t want this to be just sex._ He lifts his hand to cup Castiel’s face and kisses him gently, letting some of the affection he already feels towards this man seep through into his mouth. When they pull apart, they rest their foreheads together for just a moment, and their eyes silently say everything that needs to be said.

Dean rolls over and bites back a hiss of pleasure when he feels his cock trapped between Castiel’s soft bed sheets and his stomach.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean. Just look at you,” Castiel says quietly, voice full of admiration.

Dean bites down on the inside of his cheek when Castiel straddles his ass. He can feel the heavy weight of his cock resting against his crack and grinds back against it frantically, eliciting a low moan from Cas. Then Castiel’s lips are on a sensitive spot right behind his ear, his breath is hot on his skin, and his hands start exploring his back. Dean closes his eyes and just enjoys being worshiped. Every caress from Castiel’s strong hands and every brush of his lips on his body turns him on more and more.

When Castiel finally blazes a trail down his spine and grips his hips, urging him up onto his knees, Dean’s cock bobs heavily beneath him, more than ready for a round two.

“Your ass is astonishing,” Castiel praises him, massaging his cheeks in his hands. “How long has it been?”

Dean has to clear his throat before he can answer. “Six - no, longer. Nine months or so for the real thing,” he declares.

Castiel’s hands tighten on his ass before Dean feels him press a wet kiss to one cheek. “You fuck yourself with your fingers since then?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers, breathless.

“I bet you look unbelievably sexy fingering yourself,” Castiel tells him, his mouth moving back up to his tailbone. Dean hears the click of the lid on the lube and braces himself for what he knows is coming, all but wiggling his ass in invitation. “I’m going to take such good care of you,” Castiel promises.

“Mmhmm,” Dean responds, biting on his lip to keep himself from begging. That only lasts about five seconds until he feels the first slick glide of Castiel’s fingers over his hole and his everything in him comes alive. “Oh fuck,” he blurts, pushing back into the feeling.

“So beautiful,” Castiel says again, circling his hole with his finger. Dean can feel the way Castiel parts his cheeks with his thumbs before he pushes the tip of his finger inside. Dean clenches, wanting to pull him in all the way, and Castiel runs a hand up his back soothingly. “Take it easy. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Cas, please,” Dean whispers.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. You trust me?”

“Yes,” Dean answers instantly, surprised to find he does.

“Perfect,” Castiel says on a sigh as he wiggles his finger, slipping further inside, making Dean feel like he just earned himself a reward with the right answer.

He squeezes his eyes closed tight and rides the bolt of pleasure that shoots through him with each thrust of Castiel’s finger, moaning and groaning when Castiel eventually adds a second thick finger and starts scissoring him open.

“You feel so good, Dean. Look so beautiful.”

Apparently Dean has a kink for praise, because every time Cas tells him how good he is, he swears he can feel his cock get harder and harder.

“I want you,” Dean breathes.

“I know. I want you, too,” Castiel answers, kissing his shoulder blade. “I want to feel you fall apart.”

Maybe he should have seen it coming after that, but he keens when Castiel’s fingers find his prostate, his own fingers going white on the bed sheets where he grips them.

“Oh fuck, right there,” Dean says desperately.

Castiel brings him to the edge just with his fingers, mercilessly stroking his sweet spot while he stretches him open and tastes every inch of his exposed skin.

“How do you feel? Do you need another finger?” Castiel asks.

“‘less you’ve got a Coke bottle in your pants, I’m good,” Dean answers, already so far gone he’s completely lost his filter.

Castiel laughs as he backs away, and Dean lies flat on the bed to give his knees a break, also taking the opportunity to rut gently against the sheets. He turns enough to see Cas pull down his boxers, and no, he doesn’t have a Coke bottle cock, but what he does have is standing straight out proudly, beautifully flushed, and glistening at the tip.

“Cas, please,” he begs again, clenching around nothing. “I fuckin’ need you.”

Castiel’s fingers are visibly shaking as he wipes them on the bed sheets before he fumbles for the condom on the bed. Dean watches while Cas tears into the package and rolls it expertly down his cock, pinching the tip the way he should. He grabs the lube and coats his cock liberally, staring directly into Dean’s eyes as he does it, causing Dean to have vivid flashbacks to when he watched him jerk off through the window.

His own hips speed up, thrusting earnestly into the blankets beneath him before Castiel’s hands on his hips still him.

“Can you get back up on your knees or are your legs too tired?” Castiel asks.

Dean scrambles to his hands and knees immediately, canting his ass backwards to try to entice him into action. Castiel’s hand runs up his spine and grips his shoulder while the other lines up his cock at his entrance, and already, Dean’s head drops forwards at the exquisite anticipation of being filled.

When Castiel hesitates, Dean starts begging. “Come on already! Wanna feel you so fucking bad.”

“You want this as much as I do,” Castiel says, his voice low and as rough as sandpaper.

 _“Yes,”_ Dean sighs. “Fuck me, Cas.”

The words are barely out of his mouth before Castiel is pushing into him slowly, splitting him open in the best possible way as he slides in inch by glorious inch. They make simultaneous sounds of pleasure, and Castiel’s fingers dig into his skin until he bottoms out.

They’re both breathing hard as Castiel drapes himself over Dean’s back. Dean feels the cold metal of his nipple piercings against his skin as Cas starts kissing a trail across his shoulder blades.

“Better than I could have dreamed,” Castiel praises him. “So unbelievably tight, Dean. You feel so good.”

“Mmmm, yeah, feels good. So damn good,” Dean agrees.

“Kiss me,” Castiel asks, and Dean lifts his head to turn it towards him, lips meeting in an awkward but satisfying kiss that has him rocking back against Cas. Castiel nips at his lip before he asks, “You ready?”

Dean nods eagerly and feels his toes curl as Cas shifts his hips and begins a slow but steady pace of pulling out and pushing back into him, letting Dean get used to how it feels. As Dean begins to relax, Castiel picks up his pace. With one hand now on his hip and one hand on his shoulder, he pulls Dean to meet him for each careful thrust, eagerly announcing his pleasure with low sounds coming from his mouth.

Dean feels incredible. Feeling that thick, warm cock moving in and out of him while his legs are braced against Castiel’s strong thighs is exactly what he’s been craving, and he takes pleasure from every second of it. Every time Castiel pulls his body down onto his cock like he’s weightless. Every sound of skin slapping against skin. Every gasp from Castiel’s mouth. The scent of sweat and sex and lube. God, he wants to remember it all.

Castiel pulls out suddenly and Dean complains with a groan, but then Cas is on his back and reaching for him, and Dean doesn’t need any further prompting to climb on top of him.

He straddles his thighs, but before he can take him inside again, Castiel pulls him down for a needy kiss, teeth clacking and tongues tangling together passionately. As soon as Castiel’s hands slide down his back to his hips, he holds Castiel’s cock steady and sinks down on it with his mouth hanging open with pleasure.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps, already urging him to move. Dean closes his eyes, swivels his hips, and basks in the feeling of being full again. He never wants this to end.

He sets a slow and luxurious pace, rocking on top of Cas sensually. He leans forward to find the best angle so Cas can nail his prostate, and braces himself on Castiel’s strong chest, taking the chance to stimulate his nipples and play with those sexy piercings while he can.

Castiel throws his head back with a strangled cry and Dean smirks, knowing he’s bringing this incredibly strong and sexy man to his breaking point with only his body.

When Castiel’s eyes open again, he spits in his palm and grips Dean’s cock tight in his hand.

“Oh fuck,” Dean sighs. “Not gonna last like that.”

“I’m about ten seconds away from blowing my load so that’s good,” Castiel pants, starting to stroke his cock expertly.

Hearing that means there’s no reason to hold back anymore, so he lifts his hips and slams back down onto Cas, impaling himself on his cock fast and hard over and over, making sure to get Cas to hit his prostate each time. He’s a trembling mess almost immediately and starts letting out these whiny little sounds as he feels himself brought closer and closer to the edge by the combination of being fucked and fucking Cas’s fist at the same time.

“Oh. Oh, Dean, listen to you. So sexy,” Castiel gasps. “God, your perfect little hips look amazing.”

The praise drags another whisper from him as it goes right to his already throbbing cock, and Castiel thumbs the head. “So beautiful, Dean. Absolutely gorgeous. I want to see you come this time.” The heat coiling low in his pelvis tightens almost painfully and he calls out with pleasure. “Come with me inside of you, beautiful.”

And that’s all it takes. Dean pounds his ass down onto Castiel, taking him in to the hilt and grinding down on him as everything inside of him tightens and he shoots all over Castiel’s hand and over his stomach.

 _“Fuck,”_ Dean groans as Castiel strokes him through it with clenched teeth.

Dean almost slumps forwards, feeling absolutely boneless, but Cas grips him by the hips and he manages to stay upright. Cas thrusts into him twice more _hard_ before his hips stutter and he comes with Dean’s name on his lips. Dean shudders as he feels Castiel’s cock pulse deep inside of him as warmth floods the condom, and he rocks slowly on top of him to help him through it, trembling and wheezing with over-stimulation.

As soon as Cas urges him up, Dean lifts himself off enough to let his cock slip out, and then he falls face first onto Castiel’s hard chest with a satisfied sigh. Castiel’s strong arms encircle him and Dean snuggles in eagerly, humming happily as he tries to catch his breath. He feels Cas press a kiss into his hair and thinks he might actually melt here and now. God, he feels so good. Amazing. He wants to shout from the rooftops that he just had life changing sex. Man, he can’t think of a time he’s felt this satisfyingly wrung out.

Two orgasms in less than an hour will probably do that to most people, he thinks with a huff of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Castiel asks.

“Just thinking about how good it feels to come twice and be so thoroughly fucked,” Dean answers.

“Glad I could be of service,” Castiel responds, sounding awfully proud of himself.

They lie there for a while, sticking together disgustingly, before Castiel finally offers to go get them a cloth. Cas cleans him up carefully, kissing him as he does it, like they didn’t already get exactly what they wanted from each other.

“Would you be offended if I slipped into something more comfortable?” Castiel asks once he’s standing again.

“Are you asking me if you can wear lingerie?” Dean quips. “‘Cause I could be into that.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have any readily available,” Castiel answers. “I was thinking pajamas.”

“You already got laid man, no need to impress me now,” Dean says half seriously.

“Oh good,” Castiel says simply. He turns around - giving Dean an excellent view of his frankly perfect ass - and steps into a pair of cow spotted pajamas.

“Well aren’t those adorable,” Dean says with amusement.

Castiel turns to arch an eyebrow. “Would you like something to wear?”

“Ain’t I just going home?” Dean asks.

Castiel’s face falls before he can school it into a more neutral expression. “You can if you like, but I was hoping to drink a few beer while we wait for the bottles we abandoned to cool down in the fridge.”

Dean smiles shyly. “Yeah?”

“We could watch a movie if you want.”

Now his smile’s almost cracking his face. “Yeah, that would be great. I’m good in my jeans though,” he says, standing to slip back into his boxers and jeans.

“That’s a shame, because I saved the best ones for you.”

“Better than cow pajamas?”

“Guess you’ll never know,” Castiel teases.

“Well now I want them,” Dean admits. “But they better be cool.”

“I’m positive you’ll like it,” Castiel says, turning to present him with the white pajama pants with pink dicks printed all over them.

Dean snorts with laughter but steps into them happily. “You are the weirdest guy, I swear to god.”

Castiel shrugs, not at all ashamed, and cups the back of Dean’s neck to pull him in for a gentle, lingering kiss.

“Let’s go get that beer,” he says quietly, and takes Dean’s hand to lead him back into the kitchen. Dean follows him blindly, wondering if this thing between them can really be so easy.


	7. Chapter 7

“Dean!” Charlie says, backhanding him across the chest. “You little slut!”

Dean laughs heartily and pushes her back gently. “Come on, no slut shaming. And it’s like you’ve never put out on the third date.”

“Oh please! Don’t _third date_ me, you didn’t even know the guy existed a week ago!”

He shrugs, still grinning. “I dunno what to tell you. He’s _hot!_ I wanted him, he wanted me, and I couldn’t think of a good reason not to.”

“Okay, okay, I don’t need the porny details,” she says, wrapping her arm around his waist as they walk into the building. “What happened afterwards? Was it super awkward?”

Dean shakes his head and tucks Charlie under his arm, remembering how easy it was to curl up on the couch with Cas, both of them bare chested. They watched _The Empire Strikes Back_ with Dean lying back against Castiel and with Castiel’s arms wrapped around him the whole time. He can’t remember ever feeling so damn small (in a good way) _or_ happy. They each drank two beer, and halfway through the movie, Robin came out of nowhere and pounced on Dean’s foot. His tiny razor sharp claws dug into his big toe and made Dean screech like a little girl. It was almost worth it when he saw Castiel laugh so hard he couldn’t catch his breath for the first time. Dean still acted put upon and Castiel had said it was karma for laughing at him for almost falling over earlier. He spent some time playing with the orange ball of fluff, and definitely earned himself brownie points when Robin fell asleep on his lap, if the soft look on Cas’s face was anything to go by.

It was almost eleven when Dean had reluctantly dragged himself out of Castiel’s arms and pulled his t-shirt on to walk back across to his own apartment. Castiel had kissed him long and deep at the door, promising to see him tomorrow - which brings him back to now, with Charlie and Jo.

“Not at all. We watched Star Wars and I played with his kitten -”

“I can’t even believe that’s not a euphemism,” Charlie interrupts, pressing the button on the elevator.

“- and I came home in his dick pajama pants with my jeans bundled in my arms, and we’ve been texting back and forth all day making plans for tonight.”

“Damn,” Jo says, finally contributing to the conversation.

“What’s that s’posed to mean?”

“I don’t know. I’m trying to think if I’ve ever seen you like this,” she says, looking between him and Charlie.

“Like what?” he checks.

“You’re like, super into this guy.”

Dean shrugs a single shoulder. “So far he’s pretty great.”

“You haven’t even really dated a guy before have you?” Jo asks.

“I’ve been with guys.”

“You’ve dicked around with them - pun intended - but _dated_ them?” Charlie makes a face indicating it’s never happened.

And okay, as Dean thinks back on it, she’s right. He’s never actually gotten past a first date with a dude before, but it can’t be much different than dating a chick.

“Okay, so what?” he finally asks, stepping out of the elevator.

“So maybe you missed your calling until now,” Jo offers.

“I shoulda been dating dudes?” Charlie and Jo both nod. “Maybe I just shoulda been dating Cas.”

Charlie sucks in a sharp breath and points at him accusingly. “I’m calling it. He’s a goner.”

“Calling what?” Jo asks.

“This Castiel character is either going to be end game, or the one who fucks him up so bad for who comes next that he fucks that up too,” Charlie says.

“Well that’s comforting,” Dean says dryly. “Especially since we’re about to knock on his damn door.”

“Don’t be a chicken, Winchester,” Charlie goads him, and he rises to the bait and knocks.

Castiel answers with Robin tucked under one arm and his hair fucking _everywhere._ He’s wearing a bright yellow shirt that has simple block letters on it that reads, _Save The Bees,_ and still, he looks good enough that Dean wants to eat him up.

Castiel barely gets out, “Hello, Dean,” before both Charlie and Jo start making baby talk and take the kitten right out of his arms as they walk into his apartment uninvited. Castiel frowns at Dean and says, “Come in?”

Dean laughs and leans down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Sorry, they’re a bit much.”

Castiel brushes his thumbs on Dean’s hips, reminding him of the bruise he sucked there last night, and quietly says, “I’m already terrified.”

Dean kicks his shoes off, grins, and links their fingers together. “I’ll take good care of you,” he teases, and walks past Cas to see Charlie and Jo already sitting on Castiel’s couch and playing with Robin and an abandoned cat toy.

“Hey, shoes by the door, you heathen,” he tells them. Charlie kicks hers off and aims a puppy dog look at him, and he sighs before he walks over and grabs both pairs and puts them where they belong. “Sorry, Cas.”

“It’s quite alright,” Castiel answers, standing in the middle of his own living room awkwardly.

“So, these two cat nappers are Charlie and Jo,” Dean says.

“Charlie,” Charlie says with a wave.

“I guess that makes me Jo,” Jo smiles. “Sorry for barging in but Robin is _so cute!”_

Castiel looks up at Dean with wide eyes, and he remembers how awkward he was with small talk the first time they went out for ice cream. He takes his hand to squeeze it reassuringly, and when he still doesn’t say anything, he gives him a little nudge.

“Yes,” Castiel says belatedly, and Dean hides a smile. “That’s how I wound up with two.”

Charlie gasps. “Holy bat crap. I forgot about Batman! Where is he?”

“I have no idea,” Castiel says, normally this time. “I can never find him until he comes out to eat.”

“He’s stealthy,” Dean says to Charlie, which gets him a grin.

“Naturally.”

Castiel looks over at Dean with a smile on his face. “I can see how you two get along.”

“We’re like two peas in a pod.” He lowers his voice to say, “Which means it should be as easy to get along with her as it with me.”

“Yeah, but he’s not gonna get me ass-up as easily as he did with you,” Charlie says without an ounce of shame.

Dean closes his eyes for a second before he looks at Cas, who’s blushing furiously, and says, “God, I’m so sorry Cas. She doesn’t really come with a filter.”

Then he glares at Charlie, who doesn’t look at all chastised.

“I just meant I’m gay,” she says in a fake explanation to Castiel.

“Um, that makes two of us?” he tries, and Jo snorts.

“So your devastatingly good looks aren’t going to work on my gay ass,” Charlie explains.

“And what about the rest of you?” Castiel asks, making Dean grin.

“Guess we’ll have to wait and see, blue eyes,” Charlie laughs.

“Stop flirting with my date,” Dean says to her lightly. “Come on, Cas, let’s take a load off.”

“You go ahead, but first, would anybody like anything to drink?”

Jo and Charlie exchange a silent look that Dean can decipher, but Cas turns to Dean again with those blue eyes of his wide with silent questions. “Fuck, why are you so adorable?” Dean asks, which causes Castiel to look down at the ground. He opens his mouth to say something but seems to think better of it and instead stays silent, though he does look back up at him. “They’re looking at each other like that because we’re so used to just getting our own shit at each other’s houses that it’s been a while since any of us have been asked somethin’ like that.” Then he turns back to Charlie and Jo and says, “That right there is called _manners.”_

“How’d _you_ end up with somebody who has manners?” Charlie laughs, then answers Cas with, “I’m good for drinks. Thanks.”

“Me, too,” Jo adds, cooing down at the kitten again.

“Me, three,” Dean answers. “But thanks. Where do you wanna sit?”

Castiel points at the big round chair in the corner. “Big enough for two,” he says quietly.

“Hell yeah,” Dean says, already eager for more cuddling after last night. Bela would hold hands sometimes, but she was never much of a cuddler. Dean is a very physical person, and though he told himself it didn’t matter much when he was with Bela, he definitely prefers being close to the person he’s with the way he and Cas were last night.

Dean climbs onto the chair and reclines against the mountain of pillows behind him, kicking out his feet and crossing them comfortably. Castiel has one knee on the seat when there’s a knock on his door. Dean isn’t expecting anybody else, and based on the pinch between Castiel’s eyebrows, he would guess he isn’t either.

“Excuse me, I have to get that,” Castiel says. “I’ll be right back.”

Dean watches him go (bless those skinny jeans with the pocket chain) but gets distracted by Charlie saying, “Psssst.” He arches a brow at her. “He’s cute.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” he replies, smiling.

“And this is a _nice_ apartment,” Jo says, also whispering. “It’s freakishly clean.”

“And I think I’m taking Robin home with me,” Charlie says, scratching under the little dude’s chin.

“Hey Winchester!” Dean hears. He looks back over to the door to see Cas and Jimmy standing there. Cas looks less than impressed, but Jimmy has a bright smile on his face. “You don’t care if I join you and your friends and hang out with Castiel tonight, do you?”

Dean looks at Cas for his opinion, but he’s blank faced. He answers carefully. “As long as it’s okay with Cas, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“See Cassie, I knew he wouldn’t mind,” Jimmy says, slapping a hand down on Castiel’s shoulder and kicking off his shoes at the door. Jimmy waltzes into the living room like he owns the place, and since Jo and Charlie scooch over to make room for him on the couch, he sits on the end. “Hey, I’m Jimmy. You must be friends of Dean’s?”

“I’m Charlie, and this is Jo,” Charlie says. “And this is Robin.”

“Robin, I’ve met,” Jimmy says easily. “And I’ve heard quite a bit about the two of you, too. Mega nerd, right?” he asks Charlie.

“Guilty as charged,” she responds, flicking the radish earrings at her ears.

“What’s up with those?” Jimmy asks.

“I assume they’re radish earrings?” Castiel asks, coming into the living room.

Charlie’s smile brightens. “Keep talking nerdy to me, Cas,” she teases.

“Oh he can do that all day, believe me,” Jimmy says with a dry laugh.

“That’s why we like him,” Dean says, patting the seat beside him for Cas. Castiel smiles and arranges himself so he’s beside Dean, their shoulders pressed together, and Dean leans forwards so Cas can drape an arm around him. He settles into him with a happy sigh.

“Wow, so things are going well with the lovebirds?” Jimmy asks, his eyebrows raised.

“They boned last night,” Charlie tells him, prompting Dean to tilt his head back on another sigh of exasperation.

“Castiel! You dog! You never sleep with people that soon!” Jimmy says, clearly surprised.

“Why don’t we just put a billboard up so you don’t have to tell everybody I told you?” Dean says sarcastically to Charlie. Charlie presses her lips together but shrugs with her eyes glittering with laughter.

“This is not going how I anticipated,” Castiel whispers to Dean.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean reassures him, grabbing his hand, too.

“How did that even happen?” Jimmy asks.

 _"Jimmy,”_ Castiel scolds.

“I’m just surprised by your sudden sexual prowess,” Jimmy explains. “Usually that’s all me, not you,” he smirks.

“What - you wanna hear about how Cas almost made me blow my load when he picked me up and carried me into his bedroom?” Dean asks.

“No, I -” Jimmy begins.

“Who was pitching and who was catching, then?” Dean asks.

Jimmy actually blushes and holds his hands up in surrender, “Uh, no -”

“Oh! What position? Well, do you wanna know how we started or how we finished?”

 _"Okay!_ I officially regret bringing it up. We’re done talking about my brother having sex,” Jimmy says loudly.

“I still wanna hear!” Charlie objects.

“Forget it! You don’t get to hear anything anymore if you’re gonna blab to the world,” Dean tells her. _"_ _And_ you said you didn’t want the porny details, remember?"

“Did he really carry you though?” Charlie asks conspiratorially.

Dean grins over at Cas. “Yeah, he did.”

“Man, that’s _hot!”_ Charlie exclaims. “You aren’t exactly light.”

“Yeah, Cas, you’re hot,” Dean tells him, leaning over to brush their lips together.

“If that’s what gets Dean going, it’s no wonder he was sweating when I was weightlifting at the gym,” he hears Jimmy comment.

Cas’s body stiffens and he pulls away to break their kiss, looking down at his lap. Okay, so Jimmy talking about the two of them spending time together is still a sore spot for Cas.

Jo obviously picks up on the same thing, and says, “Yeah, Dean’s always had a thing for strong guys, so _imagine_ what a bad date you must’ve been for Charlie to have to convince him to hang out with you.”

She gets away with it without sounding like a total bitch because of the smile on her face and the teasing tilt of her head. Jimmy’s face falls almost comically, but apparently the reminder that Dean didn’t like Jimmy like that helps Cas to relax, because he can feel him soften next to him.

Dean squeezes his hand before he says, “Don’t be mean, Jo. I’d have a bad date with you, too, but you’re still mostly alright.”

“Shows what you know. I’d be a great date,” Jo disagrees, grinning.

“And it’s not like you didn’t try,” Charlie reminds him.

“Gimme a break - I was 14!” Dean defends.

“You tried to date Jo?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah - again - when I was 14. You’d think I’d get a pass on that ten years later,” Dean complains.

“He hit on me, too,” Charlie volunteers.

“Yeah well, you’re a hottie, Charles, can’t blame me.”

“I _am_ a catch,” she agrees.

“When was this?” Jimmy asks.

“High school,” Charlie answers.

“So do you become friends with everybody who turns you down?” Jimmy asks, offering him a cocky smile.

“Nah, sometimes I just end up stuck with them,” Dean jokes, and Jimmy laughs good naturedly.

“He actually was stuck with me,” Jo admits.

“And he is with me, too, if he wants to keep dating my brother,” Jimmy says.

“That’s not true,” Castiel butts in. “I usually only see Jimmy once a week. We could easily make it work without you having to see him at all.”

Everybody laughs while Jimmy’s jaw drops indignantly. “Really, Cassie? All it takes is one easy twink and you ditch your own twin?”

Charlie says, “Hey!” at the same time Jo says, “Excuse me?”

Castiel’s hand tightens almost painfully on his, and his voice is harder than he’s ever heard it when he says, “Don’t you dare talk about him like that in my home.”

“I was joking!” Jimmy says quickly.

“It’s fine, Cas,” Dean says, trying to keep the peace. He knows Jimmy’s sense of humor well enough to know he likely _was_ joking.

“It is _not_ fine. I won't allow somebody to speak to my - to you - like that,” Castiel insists. He turns to Jimmy again. “Apologize now, or leave.”

Jimmy rolls his eyes. “You know I was joking, right, Winchester?”

Dean shrugs. “I figure you probably were, yeah. Not sure why you seem so put out that your brother got laid though. Been a while or somethin’?”

“Sounds to me like he’s regretting not taking you for a spin himself,” Charlie says, aiming a sickeningly sweet smile in Jimmy’s direction.

“Okay, no,” Jimmy says immediately. “I’m straight.”

“Yeah, so we heard,” Charlie says, an obvious tone of disbelief in her voice. “Not that it matters now. I haven’t seen Dean this smitten over anybody, probably ever. So you definitely lost your chance either way.”

“You still haven’t apologized,” Castiel reminds him.

Jimmy sighs heavily. “I’m sorry I called you easy,” he says to Dean.

“No worries. It’s kinda true when it comes to Cas anyway,” Dean jokes, looking at Cas and making him smile for the first time in what seems like way too long. “C’mere,” he says, tugging him down to kiss him gently, his lips clinging to Castiel’s for as long as he can get away with in front of his friends.

“Everybody happy now?” Jimmy asks.

“I know I am,” Dean says, smiling sappily at Cas.

“What’s the plan for tonight?” Jimmy asks.

“We were thinking of a games night,” Castiel answers, his voice still not nearly as friendly with him as it was before.

“Like Nintendo?” Jimmy checks.

“No -”

“You have a Nintendo?” Charlie butts in. “Like a NES?”

“It’s actually a Super Nintendo but -”

“Can we play? Pretty please? Pleeeeeease?” Charlie asks, bouncing up and down in her seat.

Castiel looks at Dean for guidance. Dean chuckles. “You try telling her no."

Castiel shakes his head at Dean and then looks back at Charlie, “Of course.”

Charlie claps her hands excitedly. “What games do you have?”

Castiel gets up to show Charlie what he has, and from there, the five of them take turns playing Super Mario World, Mario Kart, and Donky Kong Country. Jo and Jimmy are both pretty terrible, Cas and Charlie are both surprisingly good, and Dean’s somewhere in the middle of them all. About an hour after they start playing, Castiel goes into the kitchen to bring out some munchies for everybody, and Dean goes in to give him a hand - and maybe get a kiss or two.

He wraps his arms around Cas from behind and nuzzles into the crook of his neck. “You havin’ fun, Cas?”

“I am. Even more now,” he answers, and Dean makes a happy sound as he presses a kiss against the bolt of his jaw.

Cas spins in his arms and tilts his head up, obviously asking for a kiss, which Dean more than happily obliges him with. Castiel’s lips prod his open and then he’s licking into his mouth, and Dean’s sinking against him as Castiel’s strong hands slide up his back. It’s barely even been a day, and god, how Dean’s already missed this. He missed the way Cas can make him feel so safe and _wanted_ , and he loves how he feels like Cas can’t get enough of him either. Their tongues slide against each other, lips giving and taking, until much sooner than he’d like, Castiel pulls away and cups Dean’s face with his hands.

“I missed you,” Castiel says quietly.

“Was just thinkin’ the same thing,” he agrees.

“How are you feeling?” Castiel asks, dropping his hands to loop them around Dean’s shoulders. Dean frowns, not sure what he means, until Castiel raises his eyebrows, suddenly making his meaning clear.

“Ohhh. I’m good. You were careful,” he answers, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“I felt like I was in a rush and I didn’t mean to be. I should have been more gentle.”

Dean disagrees with a shake of his head. “It was good. Better than good,” he corrects.

“Dean... You know I don’t think what Jimmy said about you is true, right?”

“That I’m easy or a twink?” Dean teases.

“The first one,” Castiel answers easily, and Dean laughs.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you did, but it isn’t anything you have to worry about.”

“Why’s that?” Castiel asks.

“Because I already slept with you. Not like I’m gonna go bend over for somebody else now.”

A small, hopeful smile comes to Castiel’s lips. “You want to be exclusive?”

Dean huffs out a nervous laugh and looks around him so he doesn’t have to look at him if he gets shot down. “Well, yeah. I guess I didn’t say, but that’s pretty much the only way I do it. That work for you?”

Castiel answers with another kiss, humming happily against Dean’s lips before he pulls away. “Yes, that works for me. I hated the idea of possibly sharing you.”

Dean grimaces. “Yeah, that didn’t work out for me so well in the last relationship I was in, so I’m gonna have to take that off the table for now.”

“If I have a say, nobody else will get to touch you for a very long time,” Castiel says.

“You definitely have a say. I’m kinda really into you,” Dean admits.

“Yes, I heard Charlie say you were - what was the word she used? Smitten?”

“Charlie has a big mouth,” Dean says, but he smiles so Cas knows he doesn’t care.

“I like her. I like Jo, too.”

“Well now I feel left out.”

“I like you, too, Dean. Quite differently, but I do like you,” Castiel tells him. “Very much.”

“I kinda got that when you went all Dark Cas on your brother,” he says, grinning.

“I won’t let anybody talk about you like that.”

“Mmmm,” Dean says, brushing his lips against his jaw and kissing a trail between words. “Kinda turns me on when you get all protective and shit.”

“Dean,” Castiel warns him, making him chuckle as he drags his lips away. Cas is smiling at him so warmly he can’t help but ask for more.

“Hey, Cas? Can I stay when everybody else leaves?”

“Would you two stop sucking face for two minutes and bring me some grub already?” Charlie shouts from the living room.

Dean laughs and pulls away from Cas’s arms. “Busted.”

“Worth it, though,” Castiel says, reaching up to grab a bag of snack mix and a bag of plain Ruffles potato chips from a cupboard above the stove. “There’s dip in the fridge. Could you grab it for me while I get a bowl?”

Dean does as he’s asked and pulls off the plastic covering, and when Cas points to a drawer, he goes over to it and grabs a spoon to scoop it into the tiny glass bowl Cas has put on the counter.

“You know my friends would just eat it outta the jar,” he says.

Castiel shrugs. “Still doesn’t hurt to make a good first impression.”

Dean thinks about the first time they all saw him through the window in the dick pajamas he currently has at his place and has to fight back a snicker. “You don’t need to worry about that. They’ll like you because I like you.” Then he thinks about what Charlie said about Bela. “Well, as long as you’re not an ass and let me be me.”

“I’m sure I’ll be an ass occasionally, but so far, I like you the way you are.”

“You sure about that? ‘Cause I gotta tell you, I’m a bit of a slob,” he admits.

“That’s okay, I like cleaning.”

“You _like_ cleaning?” Dean asks. Castiel chuckles but nods. “You’ve gotta have a flaw.”

“I have several,” Castiel says easily. “I get jealous easily, and I’m insecure, especially when it comes to my brother.” Dean frowns and Castiel explains, “It’s not personal; I still like him and everything, I’ve just lived in his shadow my entire life. Uhm, I’m also a bit of a pushover, and I’m a morning person.”

“Oh god, no. Not a morning person,” Dean groans. “Between you and Sam, I dunno if I can handle that, Cas.”

Castiel smiles shyly. “I’ll work on it.”

Dean grabs the dip and one bowl of chips, and Castiel grabs the other, and they both walk out into the living room.

“Hmmm. No visible hickeys, but I feel like Castiel’s sex hair is throwing me off the scent,” Charlie comments.

“We were just talking,” Castiel explains. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

 _“Mostly_ talking,” Dean corrects. “And his hair was already like that. Hot as hell.” He looks around for Jimmy and sees him standing by the window. “If you’re hungry, come and get it, Novak. These two can put a surprisingly large amount of food away for how tiny they are.”

“Is that the building you live in?” Jimmy asks instead.

To his horror, Castiel goes and stands beside him. “Yes, he lives in that building.”

“Can you see your apartment from here?”

Jo and Charlie are both determinedly _not_ looking at him, so he places the bowls down and takes a deep breath before he crosses the room to stand by the twins.

This is exactly why he suggested Castiel’s apartment instead of his. It would have been way too easy for Cas to see how Dean’s window looks right into his apartment.

Castiel rests his hand on Dean’s back while Dean looks out the window and across to where he knows his apartment must be. He knows he’s three floors up, so looks there.

“I honestly don’t know which one is mine. I’m on the third floor, and I don’t have curtains, so it’s gotta be one of those three,” he says, pointing to them. “But I don’t know which one.”

“You could play charades with each other through the window,” Jimmy quips.

“Blow each other kisses every night before bed,” Jo adds, which makes everybody laugh.

“You’d probably have a pretty good view of Castiel’s living room, if your apartment was either of those two,” Jimmy says, pointing at them.

Dean looks over his shoulder to see Charlie nodding encouragingly at him.

“Okay, confession time,” Dean says heavily. “I actually _can_ see into your living room. I’ve seen you a couple of times. I wasn’t trying to spy on you or anything, but well, I look out my window and you’re right there.”

There’s a beat of silence where Dean wonders if everything is about to come crashing down on him in front of his best friends, until Castiel smiles shyly and makes a confession of his own.

His cheeks are a soft pink color when he says, “I’ve seen you, too.”

And out of everything Castiel could have said, _that_ floors him. “What - seriously? When? How come I didn’t see you seeing me?”

“From the window in the kitchen, above the sink,” Castiel explains.

“I thought that little window was a stairwell or something!” Dean exclaims.

“No. Sometimes I’d be doing dishes or cooking, and I’d see you standing there. I didn’t mean to invade your privacy, either. I couldn’t even see well enough to see your face, but just the shape of your body and the way you moved was so mesmerizing I had a hard time looking away.”

“Aw,” Charlie says from the couch, echoing Dean’s thoughts pretty much perfectly.

“I swear I didn’t know you were the guy Jimmy was talking about at the coffee shop until I crashed into you in the grocery store,” Castiel finishes.

Dean snorts. “I crashed into you, dude. I wasn’t even watching where I was going.”

“If we’re sharing confessions... I saw you before that and was trying to avoid you because I recognized you,” he says, blushing fiercely now. “You started going the other way down the aisle, so I hid around the corner and waited until I thought you were gone, but you must have turned back because when I took a step I ran right into you and sent you flying.”

“Wait, really?” Dean asks, totally amused by all of this.

“I’m not kidding; it’s quite embarrassing, actually.”

“I think it’s hilarious!” Dean says. “I, uh, was actually getting pissed with Novak when he and I were hanging out, because I saw you wearing your nerdy clothes through the window, like your Harry Potter pajama pants, you know? And then I’d bring it up to try to let him know that I thought it was cool if he was a bit of a nerd, but he kept insisting he didn’t know anything. I thought he was lying to me the whole time.”

“Woah, woah, woah. You thought you were dating the guy you were secretly watching through the window?” Jimmy asks.

Dean shrugs. “I guess, yeah.”

“That explains why you were so eager to ask me out when we first bumped into each other and you realized I wasn’t him,” Castiel says, ignoring his brother. “And the Harry Potter sorting question,” he adds.

“I kinda liked you before I even knew who you were,” Dean admits.

“So did I,” Castiel agrees.

“I don’t know if this is creepy or romantic,” Charlie says.

“A little bit of both,” Jo answers.

“I’m gonna go with romantic, if it’s all the same to you,” Dean says to Cas.

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“I could ask you the same question,” Dean points out. “Anything else you wanna tell me?”

There’s suddenly a significant heat behind Castiel’s eyes when he drops his voice to a whisper to say, “Not in front of everybody else.”

Dean nods and looks away, clearing his throat. “Well, glad to get all that off my chest.”

“Oh, wait, one more thing,” Charlie says with a grin. “The first time me and Jo saw you - and Sam and Dean, too, actually - you were wearing dick pajama pants.”

“That I wore home last night,” Dean replies, also grinning.

“Talk about full circle,” Castiel comments.

Jimmy cracks up. “Those are the ones I bought you for your birthday. I never thought you’d actually wear them!”

“I _like_ dick, Jimmy, we’ve been over this,” Castiel says dryly.

“That’s another reason I thought you were into me,” Dean says to Jimmy. “Didn’t figure a straight guy would wear dick pajamas.”

“This all makes so much more sense to me now,” Jimmy says, snickering and going back over the couch.

“We good, Cas?” Dean checks quietly.

“I am, yes. You?”

“Real good,” Dean replies.

It’s after ten when Jimmy says he’s had enough company for the night, and he offers to walk both Jo and Charlie back to their cars. Dean thinks it’s more than a little amusing at how all of them assumed he was staying, even though he and Cas hadn’t come right out and said it. Regardless, they’re left alone to clean up the little bit of the mess that everybody made.

“That went okay, huh?” Dean asks Castiel, grabbing the bowls and bringing them into the kitchen.

Castiel follows him with empty soda cans. “I enjoyed myself, yes. Your friends are nice people.”

“I was surprised your brother stayed so long.”

“You and me both. It’s interesting to see you together,” he says.

“Like how?”

Castiel busies himself by rinsing out the soda cans, and Dean leans back against the counter to watch. “I don’t know many other people who put him in his place the way you seem to. Usually people are falling at his feet, worshiping the charming, funny, athletic twin,” Castiel says bitterly. “But you’re not like that with him.”

“Jimmy does have a good sense of humor, but you’re just as funny,” Dean promises him. Castiel snorts bitterly. “I can’t speak for everybody, Cas. But I mean it.”

“I know you liked him first, you don’t have to pretend that you didn’t.”

“Are you seriously still caught up on that?” Dean asks. Then he remembers what Cas said about being insecure and takes a deep breath to calm his mounting temper. “I’ll keep telling you if you need me to. I like _you,_ not Jimmy. Even if he was gay, and even if he liked me back, I'd still pick you, Cas. Every time.”

“It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just hard to understand when you’re probably the only person who’s ever made that choice.”

“Listen, remember when we went for ice cream and we were being totally lame and almost-but-not-really holding hands on the table?” he asks, and Castiel nods, smiling. “I could barely stop myself from touching you even then. Then we saw each other again and as soon as we looked at each other we were pretty much going in for another kiss right off the bat, right? I’m pulled to you all the damn time. I wanna be close to you, touch you, kiss you - I can barely keep my hands off of you.” Dean waits to see that all of that is sinking in, then says, “It was never like that with Jimmy. I never felt like I should be closer to him. I never even touched him except to take my coffee from him, and I even said to Charlie that I was bummed that there was no spark, you know? But me and you, we’ve got _hundreds_ of sparks. I know you’ve gotta feel it, too.”

He doesn’t say anything about the butterflies or the fuzzy feeling he gets inside of him whenever they touch. It’s too soon for that and he doesn’t want to scare him away. Hell, the shit he’s saying now would already be borderline too much if it wasn’t said to the right person.

“I do,” Castiel replies. “I feel the exact same way. Drawn to you all the time.”

“Good. So you know if I feel like this with you there’s no room for anybody else, least of all your brother. I got the hot, nerdy twin I wanted,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that, and Dean feels some tension loosen inside of him. “You do have me,” he agrees. “I really don’t jump into bed with anybody the way we did, but like you said, I feel pulled to you. I - I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but I was afraid if I told you that you would think I’m smothering you.”

“Thought I told you last night I like when you smother me,” Dean teases, trying to lighten the mood. “And I like spending time with you. I’ll tell you if I want time to myself or whatever, but I like having company.”

“That reminds me, I still have one confession left to tell you that I couldn’t say in front of everybody else.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Hit me with it.”

“I, um, kind of have a bit of a thing for exhibitionism,” Castiel says shyly. Dean’s heart leaps into his throat, immediately thinking of the time he saw Cas masturbating on the couch. “And I liked knowing you were watching me.”

“Uhhh,” Dean says, trying to clear his head to think of something appropriate to say.

“That night, on the couch... when I was watching porn... I hoped you would see me,” he admits quietly. “And I know you did. Which is another reason why I was avoiding you in the grocery store.”

“Jesus,” Dean breathes, a weird mix of turned on and embarrassed. “I feel like such a perv. I’m so sorry, Cas. I shouldn’t have -”

“No! No, I don’t want you to feel like that at all. I did it for you, Dean.”

“You - what?”

Castiel smiles. “Did you think it was the most logical place to jerk off, right in the living room? Isn’t the shower or the bedroom where you usually go?”

“Uhh,” Dean says, struck stupid all over again.

“I only came into the living room so you could watch.”

Cas is looking at him expectantly but he just can’t make his brain stop thinking about the memory of beating off to Cas with the new added thrill of knowing Cas was jerking off to him too. “Sorry, I’m pretty sure my brain stopped working somewhere around when you first said exhibitionism,” Dean admits.

“I came so hard knowing that you were watching me. Seeing you standing in the window fucking your fist.”

“Holy shit,” Dean breathes heavily, feeling his body reacting to what Cas is telling him. “I - I was drunk. I barely even remember it, only know ‘cause I had a, uh, mess to clean up the next morning. And I was so ashamed. Felt like such a perv.”

“I’m sorry, Dean, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I should’ve thought about how you might feel about it, but I didn’t. I’m sorry I brought it up, but I didn’t want to lie to you about anything when this is going so well,” Castiel says quietly.

“No, it’s good. It’s honestly kinda like a weight lifted knowing I was allowed to be a perv,” Dean says with a huff of laughter. “Besides, now that we know we’re both into that, we can take advantage of it now that we’re together.”

“You liked it, too?”

“Yeah. I kinda liked knowing that other people might be able to see me," he confesses.

“Hmmm, now that you mention that, I don’t know if I want other people to see how gorgeous you are when I make you come.”

A jolt of desire runs through him from the compliment. “If you aren’t gonna deliver on getting me all worked up, you should stop talking like this,” Dean tells him.

“Oh believe me, I plan to deliver,” Castiel says, drying off his hands and stepping closer to him.

“Any other kinks you got you wanna share?” Dean asks hopefully.

“Your body covers the rest of them,” Castiel answers, his hands coming to rest on Dean’s hips with a significant look. “How about you?” Dean can feel himself flush right to his ears and curses his stupid body for betraying him like this. “You don’t have to tell me now, but if you want to, I promise I won’t judge you. There’s very little I wouldn’t do for you,” he admits, his voice low and sexy.

“Promise you won’t laugh? And it’s not a big deal if you don’t like it - my last girlfriend wasn’t into it at all and it was still fine.”

“I promise,” Castiel says solemnly.

“I uh,” Dean licks his lips, and ducks his head, searching for the courage. “I kinda like, uh, wearing women's underwear,” he whispers. "Panties." He clears his throat and adds, “Sometimes.”

He can hear the sharp inhale of breath, and looks up to see if it was a good thing or a bad thing, and based on the look on Castiel’s face, he’s thinking it’s probably the former.

“I bet you look unbelievable in them,” Castiel says.

“Yeah?” Dean asks, hopeful.

“With your slim hips and gorgeous ass, how could you not?” Castiel asks. “What do you like about them?”

“Uhm, well, they feel nice, you know?" Desire is already burning inside of him just from talking about this. "On my skin.” _On my cock._ “And when I wear them, I feel sorta nice, too.”

“You feel beautiful,” Castiel supplies.

This time it’s Dean’s breath that hitches. “Yeah. And I think I might have a bit of praise kink, while we’re confessing.”

Castiel smirks knowingly. “That one I picked up on myself. Will you wear panties for me sometime, Dean? Or send me a picture so I can see?”

“You think you’ll like it?”

“I’ve never looked at anything like that before, or thought I would be into it, but after imagining you wearing something as beautiful as you are that makes you feel even more gorgeous than usual?” Castiel takes another step forward and ensures his erection is pressed against Dean. “Yes, I think it’s safe to say I’m into it. I want you to feel as good as you deserve to, Dean.”

“Can we fuck now?” Dean says eagerly.

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Castiel answers, wrapping his hand around Dean’s wrist and leading the way to the bedroom. “Why do you always get me going in the kitchen?”

 _“Always,”_ Dean snorts. “Twice.”

“Both times before sex,” Castiel reminds him as they walk into his room.

“Guess I have a kitchen kink,” Dean jokes.

“I’m starting to,” Castiel teases back, and then he’s on him like a predator on his pray. His lips catch Dean’s in a fierce kiss, as if he’d been waiting for this all damn day the exact same way Dean has been, and his hands pull him close so their bodies are flush.

Dean’s hands go immediately to his nipples, additional desire running through him when he brushes his fingers over the barbells and already hears Castiel make a soft sound of pleasure.

Castiel’s lips move across his face to his ear, then behind it and down his neck.

With Dean’s mouth free he says, “Wanted you all day.”

“Me, too,” Castiel promises. “Just looking at you drives me crazy.” He brushes his lips across the stubble Dean has from not shaving since yesterday morning and says, “This is extremely sexy on you.”

“Thought you weren’t into that?”

“I’m into _you,”_ he answers.

Dean’s hands drop to the hem of Cas’s shirt and he tugs it up and over his hair. “Fuck, been half hard thinking about these a dozen times already,” he says before he lowers his mouth to his chest. The cool metal on his tongue just does something to him, and hearing and feeling the way Cas responds to something as simple as him lapping at his nipple makes it even better. He tweaks the other one, rolling it between his fingers while Cas starts walking him back to the bed.

His mouth pops off when he sits back on the edge of the bed, and Castiel uses it to his advantage to pull his shirt off, too.

“Oh, Dean,” he says softly, hands already skimming his neck before tracing his collarbone and sweeping over his chest. “So beautiful.”

Castiel presses his lips to Dean’s again before his tongue slips into his mouth, and Dean lets his hands drift over Castiel’s strong shoulders and down his arms to where his biceps swell. Every time he feels firm muscle moving under his palms he gets harder and harder, and he has to pull away to pant for breath.

“Fuck you’re hot,” he sighs. He grabs Castiel’s hips and pulls him forward, one hand inadvertently landing on that pocket chain while he wraps his legs around Cas. “Why is _this_ hot by the way?” he asks, tugging on the chain and starting to rub himself against him.

Castiel buries his face in his neck again with a moan, licking and nipping gently at his skin while he meets each roll of Dean’s hips. “I don’t know, but I’ll wear it every day if it makes you like this,” Castiel answers, making Dean chuckle.

 _“You_ make me like this,” Dean says, humping against him harder. “I could easily come just like this, but I want that cock inside of me again.”

“God, yes,” Castiel says, his hands already undoing his own jeans. Dean follows suit and opens his pants to push them down.

Thinking about how Cas almost fell last night, his lips quirk into a smile. “Careful over there,” Dean warns Cas, who gives him a glare in return. Castiel pushes his pants and boxers down all at once and peels them off his legs, this time managing to stay upright. Dean lifts his hips to push his own boxers and jeans down, and now they’re both gloriously naked.

Castiel kisses him again, just the right mix of sloppy and desperate, and the next thing he knows, Castiel has rolled away and is on the bed beside him. Dean zeroes in on the hypnotizing view of Cas stroking his cock in his hand lazily. He’s lost in the way his painted nails stand out against his flesh and how the tip of his cock peeks in and out of his fist, when Castiel’s voice breaks the spell. “I know just the thing for that smart mouth of yours.”

Dean licks his lips lavishly and grins, getting into position between Castiel’s legs and immediately mouthing along his length.

Now that he’s up close and personal, he can see what a nice cock he’s got. It’s entirely average and not exceptional in any way whatsoever, except that it’s Cas’s, and obviously the dude knows how to use it. He makes his way to the crown and laves his tongue around it slowly, getting him as wet as he can before he takes him in hand and licks straight across the tip. Castiel’s hips stutter forward, and Dean presses his tongue to his slit softly, licking up the bit of precum waiting for him with a moan of pleasure.

“Tastes pretty good, Cas,” Dean tells him when he pops off, and he smirks when he sees Castiel bites down on his bottom lip. He keeps eye contact and opens his mouth to seal his lips around the tip of his cock, sucking just hard enough to get a groan from Cas.

Castiel reaches out to cup his jaw, and Dean takes him into his mouth, knowing exactly what Cas is trying to do. When he feels Castiel’s girth stretch his jaw and fill his mouth, he sucks again, hollowing his cheeks so Cas can feel the outline of his cock.

“You are so gorgeous. My god, Dean. Those lips of yours. So good. So perfect.” Castiel’s eyes are hooded heavily and his chest is heaving, and still, Dean bobs his head and sucks him off, using every trick in the book he knows to get Cas writhing beneath him, desperate to be the best he’s ever had.

It isn’t long at all before Cas forces him up and drags him up his body to slam their mouths together, licking into his mouth and sucking on his tongue. “You’re so good, Dean,” Castiel tells him breathlessly.

“I want you,” Dean rasps.

Castiel kisses him once more, quick and dirty, before he says, “On your stomach, then, beautiful.”

Just like last night, Castiel opens him up with one finger at a time while he lavishes his back, spine, and ass with his mouth and hands, bringing Dean within spitting distance of the edge before they’ve even really gotten started.

Unlike last night, Castiel rolls him back over and drags him to the edge of the bed. He rolls on the condom and slicks himself up before he folds Dean’s knees towards his chest, prompting Dean to hold himself open at the backs of his thighs, and positions his cock at his entrance. Dean’s panting with the anticipation of getting fucked good and hard when Cas seems to come back to himself enough to ask, “Is this okay?”

Dean nods enthusiastically. “I’m literally spreading my legs for you, Cas. Fuck me.”

Castiel pushes in with one steady stroke, bottoming out easily because of the position and filling Dean so fucking full he feels like he’s going to explode. He grimaces at the almost-too-much feeling and Castiel stops.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Fuck, I was too anxious and I didn’t prep you enough -” Castiel says immediately.

“Shh, no, no, it’s good, Cas. You just feel fucking huge like this.”

“Should we -”

“Keep going? Yeah,” Dean says quickly. “Keep going, baby. Please keep going.” Dean rolls his ass down the best he can to prove his point, and Castiel thrusts into him weakly. “Aw, yeah, Cas. So fucking deep like this.”

“You feel incredible, Dean,” Castiel rasps, “but are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Dean pushes himself up onto his hands and loops his arms around Castiel’s neck. “Less talking, more fucking.” Then he pulls him in and kisses him, dragging his hands through his hair and moaning into his mouth when he starts thrusting into him in earnest. Dean wraps his legs around his waist, and meets every snap of his hips with a roll of his own. Castiel holds him up with his hands around his lower back, making Dean feel absolutely weightless, and as Castiel wrenches his mouth away to really fuck him, Dean can hear himself making, “Ugh, ugh, ugh,” sounds with every slap of his hips against him.

As they continue working together, Dean becomes absolutely lost in pleasure, and the only thing he can do is bury his face into Castiel’s neck to take every thrust, feeling himself driven higher and higher with each one. With a surge of strength that drops Dean’s jaw, he’s lifted and pushed up further into the middle of the bed. Castiel gets his knees up on the bed with Dean’s legs resting over his thighs, and when he thrusts up into him this time he hits his prostate like a bullseye and Dean calls out, _“Cas!_ Yes! Oh fuck.”

“I’m close, Dean,” Castiel warns him, his voice thick as he keeps thrusting into him and hitting him just right every time.

Dean is damn close himself but he’s not quite there, so he reaches down to take himself in hand, but Castiel bats him away.

“You come _for me,_ Dean,” he growls, his eyes blazing with a possessiveness that takes his breath away.

“Shit, yeah. Okay,” Dean agrees instantly, throwing his head back when Castiel thumbs over his slit at the same time he nails his sweet spot. He can feel Castiel’s body tensing against him as the heat comes to a boiling point inside of him, and he begs. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please. I’m so close, baby, don’t stop.”

“Uh - Dean - _I can’t,”_ he growls, fisting his cock brutally while still drilling into him. “You feel _so good._ I’m gonna come. Fuck, I'm - I'm -”

One more thrust into his prostate has Dean’s body locking up, and he paints his chest and Castiel’s hand white with thick ribbons of cum and a silent scream as pleasure ripples through him. Castiel pulls out and rips the condom off, taking both of their cocks into his hand and gripping them quickly until his shoulders hunch forwards, and then Dean feels his hot cum spill onto his stomach and over his dick.

Already over sensitive, he whines when his cock releases another dribble of cum and pulls Castiel down on top of him to feel his weight pin him down. His fingers dig into his sweaty back as he licks and sucks at the saltiness pooled in Castiel's clavicle. Meanwhile, Castiel continues to thrust against him lazily, milking himself dry until he collapses on top of him fully. Dean just barely holds in a grunt of pain at his heavy weight, but he also kinda likes it, so he lies there as long as he can until he actually feels like he’s struggling to draw air.

“You’re kinda squishing me here, babe,” Dean says.

“Shit, sorry,” Castiel curses, rolling off of him and taking Dean with him.

Dean lands on top of him with a laugh that’s kissed right out of his mouth. Castiel kisses him deeply, slowly, like there’s nothing else in the world he’d like to do _except_ kiss him, and Dean indulges him happily.

When Castiel finally pulls away, he nuzzles against him, nose to nose, and says, “Stay with me tonight.” Dean’s heart leaps. “Let me hold you all night and fuck you again nice and slow in the morning.”

“You don’t gotta twist my arm, Cas. I wanna stay right here.”

Castiel kisses him again, soft and sweet, and without knowing how, he just _knows_ that this is going to be something significant. He’s never been _this_ into anybody so quickly. He can feel something shift and grow inside of him at the thought, making more room for the man beneath him, and he has to fight it down when his eyes want to water. It’s already _so much_ and he doesn’t even know Cas that well. It’s fast and fucking terrifying, but exhilarating and somehow right all at the same time.

Castiel looks at him questioningly, but with understanding in his eyes, too, and Dean just takes a chance and says it.

“You ever get the feeling this could be something big?”

Castiel’s expression is serious but there’s a smile is in his eyes when he answers. “From the first kiss.”

Dean sighs heavily. “Yeah, me too. Kinda scary. But good, you know?”

Castiel kisses him right on the nose, making Dean squirm with embarrassment. “Don’t be afraid. We only have to go as fast as you’re comfortable with. I’ll give you anything - whatever you need. Okay?”

 _I’ll give you anything._ It’s such a huge thing to say, so why does he believe him just like that? Even though he doesn’t get why, it helps relieve some of the fear. “Thanks, Cas.”

“Speaking of giving you things, I may have already bought an extra toothbrush for you,” he admits with a shyer smile this time.

“Knew I was a sure thing, huh?” Dean teases.

“No! No, of course not. I hoped, however,” he confesses, “and I wanted you to be comfortable if the situation presented itself.”

God, he’s just _so cute._ With that warmth inside of him taking over again, he takes another chance and says, “Best boyfriend ever.”

He gets a bright smile for that and Castiel says, “Don’t forget it,” as he tugs him up and out of bed.

They clean up, brush their teeth, take turns using the bathroom, and each slip into a pair of pajama pants. The nighttime routine had always been at least a little awkward whenever he’s shared it with anybody but his brother, but with Cas, it’s simple. They move around each other easily, sharing space and then trading elbows and laughter when they can’t.

They curl up together face to face in Castiel’s bed and end up staying awake and talking long into the night, that warm feeling inside of him growing bigger with every new thing he learns about Cas. When Dean finally rolls over and Castiel snuggles up behind him to make him the small spoon, Dean still can’t stop smiling. For the first time he can remember, he falls asleep with a soft smile still on his lips, knowing he’s exactly where he belongs.


	8. Chapter 8

He wakes slowly the next morning with Cas still wrapped around him, and before he’s aware of anything else, he knows he’s insanely happy to be waking up in Castiel’s bed. Then he feels lips making their way across his shoulder blades, hot and wet. One large hand is caressing his lower abdomen and he can feel his own cock already straining hard and heavy in his pajama pants.

Now, Dean is in no shape or form a morning person, but he’d have to be dead not to appreciate it when he feels Cas’s clothed cock riding his ass. He’s pressing back into him before he’s even made the conscious decision to do it, and Castiel’s low moan reverberates through him.

Castiel pushes both of their pants down and Dean kicks his off while Castiel rolls away. He hears the click of the lube bottle being opened next, the heat of Castiel’s body returns, and then there’s a finger slipping inside of him. He’s still loose from last night, so a second finger slides in easily and he lets out a satisfied sigh.

“So beautiful, Dean,” Castiel rasps from behind him. “Love having you in my bed.”

Dean moans in response and tilts his hips back again, asking for more. He feels Castiel’s warm cock against him, slicked up and sliding between his cheeks, just _barely_ missing his rim and causing his stomach to flip with excitement. He can feel that Cas isn’t wearing a condom, and having never done that before with a guy, the desire to do something forbidden is enticing.

“God, you feel good,” Castiel sighs, his breath hot on his ear. “Your skin is so smooth. So beautiful.”

Dean fights back a full body shiver. He trusts Cas, and he knows he’d never be bare and this close to his ass without knowing he was safe. He’s just not that kind of guy. Besides that, being teased with the opportunity to fuck without a condom unexpectedly makes him want it, and badly.

Dean takes a deep breath and with his voice still rough from sleep, he says, “Do it.”

Castiel pauses as his fingers dig into his stomach. “Dean?” he asks.

“Wanna feel you,” Dean says, hoping his meaning is more clear now.

 _“D-Dean?”_ he chokes out. “Are you sure?”

“Just you.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Cas curses. Then, in the next breath, “I’m clean. I swear.”

“I know.”

Castiel is panting behind him now and slipping between his cheeks, _just_ catching on his rim.

Castiel’s mouth draws another sound of pleasure from him when he latches onto the meat of Dean’s shoulder. He pulls away after he soothes the mark with a flick of his tongue, and has Dean wondering what the fuck he’s waiting for. “Have you ever -?”

“No,” Dean answers. Castiel’s fingers are still digging into his skin, and for whatever reason, he gets the impression that Cas wants to, but he’s holding back. “C’mon, baby. Please.”

And apparently that’s all the temptation Castiel can take, because he holds Dean open with one hand and pushes into him slow but steady with a shaky breath.

“Oh my god,” Castiel says on a long exhale. “Holy shit. _Fuck,_ Dean, that feels _so good._ _You_ feel so good, beautiful.”

Dean can’t make words to reply, because for whatever reason, it _does_ feel better. So much better. Cas feels so warm and alive inside of him, and it’s significantly more intimate than having that thin barrier of latex between them. They’re actually physically connected right now in a way he’s never been with anybody else; this is the closest they can be.

Castiel pauses once he’s all the way in, and lavishes his neck and shoulders with kiss after kiss. Cas slides one hand beneath him and Dean reaches for it to lace their fingers together as he waits for him to start moving.

Castiel’s other hand, still slick from the little bit of prep Dean needed, engulfs his cock and begins stroking him at the same time he starts thrusting.

“Oh, fuck,” Dean gasps, the dual sensations taking him over.

“You have no idea - _god_ \- how good this feels,” Castiel whispers. “You’re so amazing. It feels so good. I feel _so much.”_

Dean’s heart fills with his words, and without thinking about anything except being closer still, he brings their entwined hands to his mouth and kisses the back of Castiel’s hand. Castiel whimpers behind him and Dean keeps going, kissing each of his knuckles one by one to try to get control over the emotions that are bubbling to the surface.

He just feels so damn connected to Cas like this. Pulled in, like he said before, but now that they’re literally locked together he feels like everything he’s ever wanted is right here in this bed. He knows it’s crazy, he knows he barely knows the guy and that everything he’s thinking is probably from a mixture of really great sex and being half asleep, but he feels like this is it and it’s almost impossible not to let it out.

He snaps his mouth shut and folds one of his legs up a little bit, helping Cas find the right angle so that he can hit his prostate. He connects only a few seconds later, and Dean feels the breath punched out of him with unbelievable pleasure. Castiel plunges inside of him again and again. His sweet spot being hit over and over combined with the tight tunnel of his fist is providing all the stimulation he needs, and Castiel’s lips and teeth working his skin is an added bonus that has him hurling towards his orgasm faster than ever.

Cas’s hips speed up, the sounds he makes increase in volume and intensity, and his hand squeezes almost painfully around Dean’s erection.

“Dean - this feels so good. I’m so close already - fuck - I’m sorry.”

“No,” Dean says quickly. “It’s good. Feels so good. Wanna feel you when you come.”

 _“Ughhhh,”_ Castiel groans. “Want me - _oh god_ \- want me to pull out?”

“Fuck no.” Castiel drives inside of him harder, and Dean can feel his cock throb with excitement. “Come in me.”

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel growls. Dean feels his fingers grip his, his arm pulls tight against his body, and he says his name once more with his voice as rough as sandpaper before he lets out, “Unghhh,” in a choked off voice and Dean can actually feel his cum spill warm inside of him.

Something about it fills a base need - to be claimed, to be branded by Cas - that he didn’t even know he had. His blood boils, his heartbeat roars in his ears, and with a single well-timed twist of Castiel’s wrist, Dean comes all over the sheets harder than he ever has in his life. His vision blurs, his toes curl, and he lets out a growl of his own while he works himself back on Castiel’s cock until he’s completely spent.

Castiel keeps moving inside of him, gasping and groaning, and Dean feels additional arousal course through him when he hears and feels the wet squelch of Castiel’s cum inside of him. It must feel good for Castiel too, because even though he’s trembling (likely with over stimulation) he keeps thrusting until Dean can feel his cock go so soft he slips out.

Cum goes with him, and while it’s kind of disgusting, it’s all kinds of dirty and wrong, and a big part of him fucking loves it. He can’t stifle another sound of pleasure when he feels cum slick and warm dripping from his hole, and Castiel rewards him with another kiss right behind his ear.

Completely sated in every possible way, Dean’s eyes close. Castiel snuggles in against him again, and he’s already more than halfway back to sleep when he hears Castiel’s voice drift through his consciousness dripping with awe. “This is insane.”

Dean hums his agreement and drifts off completely.

The next time he wakes up, he’s pillowed on Castiel’s chest, and Castiel’s hand is running up and down his spine slowly. Dean makes a happy little, “Hmmm,” sound and doesn’t even bother opening his eyes, choosing instead to bask in the warmth both surrounding him and inside of him.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Castiel says.

Dean responds as he usually does first thing in the morning: with a grunt.

Castiel chuckles and kisses his forehead. “If we’re not permanently stuck together with bodily fluids, I can make us some coffee.”

That warrants Dean opening one eye and trying to focus it on Cas. Cas smiles in a friendly way, so he grunts again, and rolls off of Cas and onto his back. They weren’t stuck together, but the cum all over his chest is now dry and crusty, and he scowls at it with disgust.

“I’ll bring you a cloth so you can clean up a bit to hold you over until we shower,” Castiel says, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek before he gets out of bed. Dean watches him step into his pajamas - which are a dark blue color and printed with stars, planets, and pizza, of all things - and slip on those pink bunny slippers he’d seen from the window. He shakes his head with affection as Cas walks out of the bedroom.

He indulges in a lazy stretch, grunting as his muscles seize and relax, and then turns back over onto his stomach and follows his nose until he finds the place that smells most like Cas and inhales greedily. Even just the smell of the guy - whatever he uses as cologne or deodorant - smells damn good and sends happy feelings buzzing through him. Shit. He’s so gone on Cas already and it’s way too soon for this.

You can’t - he can’t - it’s not possible to really... fall for somebody... in less than a week, is it? He huffs out a short breath, irritated with how stupid that thought even was, and pushes it away. Apparently he’s turned into one of those women who has really great sex and automatically thinks she’s in love with the guy. Because one thing he’s sure of is that he’s had some of the best sex of his life with Cas, _and_ they should still be in the awkward, trying to figure it out stage. When Cas gets to know his body better, there’s no doubt in his mind that he’s going to tear him apart in the best possible way. It must be playing with his emotions or something.

His cock gives an interested twitch from the direction of his thoughts, and he has to give it props for being so on board for another round already. Cas is older than him though - he wonders how long he’d need before they could go again - and if they could go again after that? As far as he’s concerned, there’s pretty much no reason to get out of this bed for the majority of the day. And thinking of the bed, he’s really gotta ask Cas what the hell kind of mattress this is, because this baby’s at least as comfortable as his memory foam, and _that’s_ saying something.

“Here you go, beautiful,” Castiel says quietly. Dean opens his eyes again to see Cas standing there with a cloth. Dean rolls back over onto his stomach and Castiel says, “May I?” He gives a tiny nod of his head and Castiel starts washing his stomach and his chest, rubbing gently to get the flaky cum off of his skin. “Roll over for me?” Castiel’s voice is low, but unlike the roughness he’s used to hearing from him during sex, now it’s soft. Dean swallows thickly and rolls over, knowing exactly what Cas is asking of him.

This is a kind of intimate he’s never been with _anybody_ before. And still, he rolls over to bare his ass so that Cas can clean him up without question. The washcloth is warm and Castiel is incredibly gentle while he slips the cloth between his cheeks to clean up the mess. His face is burning, but thankfully he doesn’t have to look at Cas while he does this. He feels a light smack to his ass once the cloth leaves and lifts his head to arch an eyebrow at Cas.

“How do you take your coffee?” Castiel asks him with a soft smile.

“I’m comin’,” Dean responds.

Castiel gasps over-dramatically as Dean rolls out of the bed. “Actual words?”

Dean gives him the finger and Castiel holds out the pajama pants he kicked off earlier with a smile on his face. Dean reaches for them, but Castiel pulls them away playfully.

“I will actually kill you dead,” Dean warns him, causing Castiel to chuckle before he hands them over.

“Okay, grouchy pants. I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”

At least the dude can take a hint. He uses the bathroom and then stumbles into the kitchen, feeling sluggish as he always does before coffee. Castiel has his striped black and yellow mug in hand, leaning back against the counter, looking incredibly sexy all bare chested and rumpled from sleep. He’s really going to have to work on learning to control his dick every time he sees those piercings, because it’s gonna be a problem if he can’t. He tears his eyes away from them to see that Cas’s bedhead is absolutely everywhere, and still, the guy looks like a wet dream.

How’s he supposed to guard his heart against _that?_

Cas puts his coffee down and reaches above him for another mug. His back muscles ripple with the movement, drawing Dean’s gaze. When he turns back around he has two mugs in his hands. “Death Star or Hocus Pocus?”

Even Dean can’t hold back a smile at the Hocus Pocus mug. It has Winnifred on the front with _Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!_ written on the front of it. It’s clearly made for people who hate mornings like he does, and he makes a mental note to put one like it on his Christmas list. He points to it and earns himself an amused smile from Cas, who fills his cup for him.

“Milk is in the fridge, sugar cubes are here,” he points to a small container beside the coffee maker.

“Cream?” Dean asks hopefully.

“Sorry, I don’t use it.”

Dean lets his shoulders deflate with disappointment but gets the milk out of the fridge without an audible complaint. Castiel steps behind him, places his hands on his hips and brushes his lips to the bolt of his jaw. “I’ll have it for next time. Please don’t pout.”

“Not pouting.” Especially not after _next time._

“My god, you’re cute when you’re grouchy.”

Dean rolls his eyes, but he’s secretly pleased that his morning demeanor isn’t scaring him off. He adds four sugar cubes to his coffee and as much milk as the cup can hold, then stirs it all together with the spoon sitting there. He takes his first sip and closes his eyes as he imagines the caffeine working its way through his body and bringing him to life.

“So I’m getting that you don’t like to talk in the morning, but do you eat?” Castiel asks. Dean nods in response. “I usually cook a big breakfast Sunday mornings. I was thinking bacon, eggs, and pancakes. Does that sound okay?”

A comfortable bed, morning sex, coffee, and food? Where can he sign up to have this every day?

“Sounds perfect,” Dean answers, already feeling more human from his first drink.

Just then, he sees a tiny black fur covered head poke its head out from around the wall. Even from here, he can see that the little kitten has insanely blue eyes, and when he instantly thinks of Cas, his lips curve into a small smile. Castiel is obviously watching him, because he turns to follow Dean’s gaze and he smiles too.

“Looks like I was so distracted by the beautiful man in my house that I forgot to feed the kittens,” Castiel comments. “I’ll just feed them quickly before I start cooking.”

At the first crinkle of the cat food bag, Dean can hear a little _meow_ from somewhere far off in the apartment before Robin comes barreling into the kitchen making more noise with his tiny paws than he would have thought possible. And suddenly there are two kittens weaving their way between Castiel’s legs, meowing up a storm. Castiel stops to pat them both, which only makes them meow louder, and Robin even headbutts his leg. Cas has one of those big gummy smiles on his face while he scoops some food into both bowls, and Dean’s heart tumbles in his chest at the sight.

“Good morning, guys. Are you starving?” Cas asks them as he strokes their backs while they dive into their food bowls. “I bet you are. I’m sorry I forgot you. You’re cute, but you’re nowhere near as cute as my new boyfriend.” He says that with a smile aimed in Dean’s direction that melts him to his core.

Yeah, he’s so, _so_ screwed.

“Alright beautiful, you’re next on my list,” Castiel says to him. He puts the cat food away and takes a few steps towards him before he pauses. “Are you awake enough for a good morning kiss yet?”

Dean gestures for him to come forwards with a jerk of his head, and Castiel cups his face in his hands before he brushes their lips together softly. It’s a brief kiss, but it’s still enough to cause those butterflies to take flight again. Castiel pulls away, but meets his eyes with so much warmth in them that it’s really hard to breathe all of the sudden, and it has nothing to do with the way Cas brushes his thumb along Dean’s lips.

Castiel smiles slyly before he peeks into Dean’s mug. “So half a cup is all it takes to get a kiss out of you. Noted,” he says, stepping away to pull a frying pan out from the drawer under the stove.

“How do you wake up this happy?” Dean wonders aloud.

Castiel pins him with a significant look. “You do remember how I woke up, don’t you?”

“Hard to forget the first time you let somebody come in your ass,” Dean comments, which amazingly makes Castiel’s cheeks turn a beautiful pink as he roots around for something in the cupboard.

“We should have talked about that first,” he says, pretty obviously _not_ looking at him on purpose. “I shouldn’t have let something like that happen in the heat of the moment. It was irresponsible.”

Dean feels his stomach sink like a stone while Cas starts placing some bacon into a pan. It sounds like Cas regrets what happened this morning while Dean’s been thinking it was this intimate bonding experience that he was actually happy to share with Cas. Apparently Cas doesn’t feel the same way. He goes and sits at the kitchen table and nurses his coffee while he tries to think that through.

He has no clue what he’s supposed to say without showing how hurt he is by Cas saying what he said. He can’t possibly have this conversation without telling him that he isn’t sorry - and then it hits him out of nowhere that maybe he could just say that. Maybe he could tell him the truth about how he feels. As soon as he has the thought he knows that’s the adult thing to do here. He likes Cas a lot, and maybe if he just tells him they can work it out.

“I dunno,” he says awkwardly. “I mean, I trust you, heat of the moment or not, and I don’t think we shouldn’t have done that. So I guess, well, it sounds like maybe I need to apologize for asking you to do something you didn’t want to do.”

Castiel’s head whips around and he makes eye contact for the first time since they started talking about this. "What?"

Dean can feel the blush starting to spread across his cheeks and _hates it_ but he isn’t going to back down now. “Well, like I said, I trust you. And I liked it, probably mostly because it was a first I got to have with you and I’m so crazy about you. So I’m not sorry we did it, just sorry you didn’t want to and felt like you had to. I hope...” He has to stop to take in another deep breath. “I hope this doesn’t fuck stuff up between us, ‘cause I really like you. We can use condoms if you want. Or hell, we can just slow everything down. Whatever you want.”

“You’re crazy about me?” Castiel finally asks him.

Did he say that? “Uh, yeah, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry about that, Dean. I’m crazy about you, too,” Castiel says with a smile, and relief washes through him when he sees it. He didn’t fuck it up. “And we absolutely didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I just thought that because I’m older I’m the one who should’ve had better control and self-discipline.”

“You’re not _that_ much older than me. I knew what I was askin’ for.” The bacon starts sizzling and Cas pushes it around in the pan before he bends to get another one and crosses the kitchen to grab eggs, milk, and margarine out of the fridge. Dean finishes his mug of coffee and gets to his feet again. “Now that I’m awake, can I help? Looks like you got your hands full.”

“That would be great. If you can man the bacon, I can scramble the eggs and get the pancakes going.”

Cas rests a hand on his lower back for just a second and Dean feels some of the tension in his stomach lessen. “Hey Cas? Did we fuck this up ‘cause of what happened this morning?”

Cas stops. “I don’t think so. Do you?”

“I dunno. Still feel a little off, I guess.”

“Come here then,” Cas says softly, holding his arms open. Dean goes eagerly, and nuzzles into Cas’s neck, letting Castiel’s strong arms and his now familiar scent comfort him. “You have no idea how much I care about you, Dean,” he says quietly. “Much more than I should so soon.”

“Yeah,” he exhales. Now that he’s not looking at him, everything else he wanted to say slips out easily. “I get it, believe me. Almost scary in a good way, you know? And I’m - I’m glad it was you earlier. I know it was kinda dumb without asking to see test results or whatever, but I really do trust you, and it felt right ‘cause it was you.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs, squeezing him even tighter for just a moment before he releases him entirely. He’s looking up at him with _so much_ in his eyes that Dean can barely look at it straight on. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Keep me?” he suggests breathlessly.

“For as long as you’ll let me,” Castiel promises immediately.

And for some stupid reason, Dean believes him.

They cook breakfast together, and it’s easy the same way the nighttime routine was the night before. They snip and swipe at each other a few times, but it’s only in fun. They work well together and it’s simple to be with Cas. They eat and each have another coffee before showering together for the first time, where they’re both rendered speechless at the sight of one another dripping with water.

For Dean, it’s just as good as porn. His incredibly hot boyfriend is naked and wet with drops of water cascading down what seems like miles of hard muscles. For Cas, he can’t keep his hands off of Dean’s hips or ass, and they end up getting each other off with slippery hand jobs that he can’t find a single thing to complain about.

Afterwards, Cas shows him his office. He’s absolutely floored when he sees what a talented artist he is, and he spends almost an hour going through old sketchbooks of his while Castiel watches nervously with pink cheeks. He asks if he can take a stack of comic books that are on display home with him when he leaves and gets the bemused okay from Cas.

Without ever discussing it, they spend the entire day together. They watch TV and listen to music curled up together, have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a late lunch, and play Mario Kart where Dean gets his ass kicked royally on every course _but_ Rainbow Road. Robin takes turns playing with them and passing out on them, and though Dean sees Batman poke his head out from several hiding places throughout the day, he doesn’t actually come to join in. Finally they go together in Dean’s car to grab groceries. When they’re done there, Dean drives back to his apartment, and with each of them having their own groceries that need to go to their separate apartments, that’s where they part for the day.

Considering it’s after five o’clock and he got to Cas’s apartment at seven o’clock last night, he really shouldn’t feel sad about it when they walk away from each other, but he still does.

He changes out of the clothes he’s been wearing for two days and into sweatpants before he starts putting his groceries away. By the time he’s done that and heats himself up a couple of Hot Pockets for dinner, he’s totally beat.

He lounges in front of the TV until Sam calls. He listens diligently while Sam talks about an assignment he’s working on with his roommate Kevin, who’s become one of his best friends. Eventually, Sam turns the conversation around to Dean and asks him what he did today.

“You spent the whole day with Cas?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, pretty much. Just got in a few hours ago.”

“Wow. How was it?”

“Honestly? This weird mix of easy and awesome. It feels like we’ve known each other a lot longer than just a week. It’s crazy,” he admits.

“Sounds like you really like him,” Sam comments.

“I do. Enough that I’ve kinda been thinking about... well, do you believe in the whole ‘one person is meant for you’ kinda thing?”

There’s a moment of silence where Dean can practically _see_ Sam’s jaw drop before he clears his throat and says, “I’m not really sure. Do you?”

If Sam was here in front of him, he’d never admit to this, but since he’s not, he shrugs and says, “I do more now than I did before.”

“Wow,” Sam says quietly.

He automatically goes on the defensive. “Shut up.”

 _“You_ shut up. I’m just surprised! You’ve never exactly been the romantic head over heels kind of guy, Dean.”

“I’m still not romantic,” Dean maintains. “It’s just... it’s really easy being around him, you know? I don’t even have to try to act a certain way or anything like that. I'm just me,” he says, realizing that for the first time even as he’s saying it.

“So what - you love this guy now or something?”

Dean balks at the question - maybe a little too much. “What? No. Don’t be stupid.” Because even if he caught himself wondering a few times how fast you can really fall for somebody, he _knows_ you can’t fall in love with somebody in less than a week. That’s crazy.

 _I’m crazy about you_.

Shit.

No. That’s... something other than crazy... ridiculous. Absurd. Loony, even.

He finds himself on his feet, leaning against the windowsill as he looks across to Cas’s apartment. Cas is on the couch, and like he can feel Dean’s eyes on him, he glances over and then gets up to walk over to the window himself. Without knowing what else to do, Dean gives an awkward little wave. Cas smiles and waves back, and the two of them just keep standing there looking at each other like idiots.

“Dean? _Dean?”_ he hears in his ear.

“Oh shit, sorry Sammy.”

“What’re you doing? Daydreaming about your soulmate?”

Considering that’s a little too close to the truth for comfort, Dean scoffs. “No. Shut up.”

Sam’s laugh is a knowing one and Dean rolls his eyes even knowing Sam can’t see him. “Whatever you say, Dean. I’m gonna go get ready for bed, I have an 8AM class tomorrow,” he says.

“That’s disgusting,” Dean comments.

“Tell me about it. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Tell Cas I say hi.”

“Yeah, alright. Talk to you soon, man.”

Dean hangs up the phone and crosses his arms, still looking at Cas looking at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it’s weird to just stand here looking at each other, but Cas is still looking hot as fuck in his skinny jeans and Princess Peach t-shirt and Dean can’t think of a good reason to move away.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, but all of the sudden, Cas straightens up and gives Dean another little wave. Figuring this is goodbye, Dean waves back, then he squints as Cas reaches out like he’s pressing an invisible button before he starts sinking down into the floor. Cas tilts his head up, then looks straight across as he keeps sinking down, down, down, and like a light bulb goes off, Dean realizes he’s fucking with him and pretending to be on an elevator.

He throws his head back and laughs so hard at his nerdy boyfriend that he has to wipe the mirth away from his eyes. Cas pops up about fifteen feet away and sits back down on the couch, and Dean cracks up all over again when he thinks about Cas either crawling or log rolling across his living room just so he doesn’t ruin the illusion.

And yeah, he’s totally fucked when it comes to this guy. He’s perfect.


	9. Chapter 9

Dean walks into _Cup of Life_ Monday morning and gets into the back of the line. He can hear Jimmy’s voice, and because there’s a few people in front of him, he has time to think about how Jimmy and Castiel’s voices sound similar but are also really different. He would be able to hear both of them talk and easily tell who’s who. They both have deep voices, but Cas’s is deeper and rougher, and his is the only one that sends goosebumps across his skin when he says his name.

When it’s his turn, he’s greeted with a big smile from Jimmy.

“Morning, Winchester,” he says with a smile. “The usual?”

“Oh yeah. I got a lotta calories to earn back after the weekend.”

“Did you go to the gym again?” Jimmy asks.

“Nope,” Dean says with an eyebrow wiggle.

Jimmy snorts and shakes his head fondly. “I really don’t want to hear about that, then.”

“I wasn’t gonna say anything else,” Dean lies, smiling.

“Liar. And try to remember that grin of yours doesn’t have the same effect on me as it does my younger brother,” Jimmy reminds him, passing him his turnover. Dean gets a whiff of blueberry and his eyes widen.

“Blueberry!?” he exclaims excitedly. Jimmy shakes his head at him again.

“I have never seen anybody get as excited about pastry as you in my life.”

“You haven’t _seen_ excited until you start making pies,” Dean says.

“It’s not out of the question,” Jimmy admits.

“Don’t tease me, Novak.”

Jimmy laughs and takes Dean’s money. “Name for the order?”

“Parker.”

Jimmy squints at him. “Paul Parker?”

“Who the hell’s _Paul_ Parker?” Dean asks.

“Isn’t he Spiderman?”

Dean groans. _“Peter_ Parker. Come on, man. You’re killing me here!”

“I was close, give me a break.”

“You’re an embarrassment to regular people everywhere.”

“No, I _am_ regular people. You’re the nerd,” he argues.

“And proud of it. See you tomorrow, loser.”

Dean’s barely out of the store when his phone buzzes with a text.

 **JIMMY:** I spit in that turnover  
**JIMMY:** Just couldn’t say it in a store full of customers lmao

Dean’s still grinning when he gets to work, and his mood holds all morning.

It’s lunchtime when he gets a message from Cas.

 **CASTIEL:** Hello, Dean. How is your morning going so far?  
**DEAN:** Jimmy made blueberry turnovers, so my day pretty much got worse from there on lol  
**CASTIEL:** Started too strong, huh?  
**DEAN:** Afraid so.  
**CASTIEL:** At the risk of sounding conceited, perhaps I can turn your day around if you’d like to spend the evening together?  
**DEAN:** Oh yeah? How you gonna do that?  
**CASTIEL:** I was thinking my company might be enough...?  
**DEAN:** Oh, that would do it. I was just hoping for another elevator show tbh  
**CASTIEL:** I thought you might like that :)  
**DEAN:** Haven’t laughed that hard in a long time  
**CASTIEL:** :) So would you like to come over tonight?  
**DEAN:** You know I would. What time?  
**CASTIEL:** I’d like to cook you dinner if you’re free  
**DEAN:** Is this my fourth date? ;)  
**CASTIEL:** Are we still counting? If so, I’d have to insist that games night was our fourth date, and spending the day together yesterday was our fifth. So me cooking for you would be our sixth date.  
**DEAN:** Wow, sixth date, huh? Sounds serious ;)  
**CASTIEL:** Feels that way too :P  
**DEAN:** :) Be there around five. Can I bring anything?  
**CASTIEL:** Just yourself. I’ll see you tonight!  
**DEAN:** I can't wait xoxoxo  
**CASTIEL:** <3

And so after work, Dean hurries home to change out of his work clothes. He opens his underwear drawer and looks at the panties he owns. Should he wear some tonight? Cas seemed on board with the idea but he doesn’t want to freak him out. With that thought in mind, he grabs a pair of what he thinks of as [in-between boxer shorts.](https://i.imgur.com/TO2QBsv.jpg) They’re shorter than any other boxer briefs he owns, they’re seamless, and best of all, they’re made of a thin, almost transparent stretchy silk that cradles his cock perfectly. The material is incredibly smooth and his ass looks fantastic in them. He has a pair of these in pink, too, but he doesn’t want to hit Cas with too much all at once. So he sticks with the blue, pulls them on and relishes the smooth slide of material up his legs. Then he (sadly) covers them up with jeans and a plain white t-shirt with a shallow vee neck, and turns around to head right back out to Cas’s place.

He takes the elevator up and knocks on his door once he gets there. He waits a few minutes but there’s still no answer, and just as he’s about to knock a second time, he hears a chant of, “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m coming,” through the door.

When Cas pulls the door open, he’s standing there in black sweatpants and a Stormtrooper apron with his hair sticking up in twenty different directions and his face flushed a deep pink.

Dean’s heart falls at his feet, and as crazy and illogical as it is, _he knows_ he’s in love with this nerd.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says with a quirk of his lips.

“Hey,” Dean says, his voice _way_ off. He clears his throat and tries again. “Everything okay in here? You look a little flustered,” he says, walking through the open door.

“Oh, yeah. Sure. Absolutely. Everything’s fine,” Castiel says all in one breath. But Dean raises his eyebrows because he doesn’t _seem_ fine. “Just bad execution on my part. The timer was going off on the oven but I couldn’t find the oven mitt.”

“It’s like a billion degrees in here,” Dean comments.

“Yeah, I know. The oven’s been on for a while. I can’t stop sweating,” he says with a weird little laugh.

“Want me to open a window?” Dean asks cautiously.

Castiel stops mid-step and looks at him. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

“Maybe because you’re too busy freaking out?”

Castiel smiles nervously as Dean crosses to the window. “Is it that obvious?”

“Want me to lie?” Dean teases.

“I believe it’s too late for that,” Castiel replies as Dean wrenches the window open. He walks back over to Cas and searches his eyes for a clue, but comes up blank.

“So what’s goin’ on? Should I be worried?”

“What? No! Nothing like that. I suppose I wanted to impress you, so I took on too many things all at once.”

“That’s adorable,” Dean says. Castiel huffs and looks away, his lips still turned up into a small smile. “I do have a complaint, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You were so freaked out over impressing me - which, by the way is completely unnecessary considering how gone on you I am - that you forgot to kiss me.”

Castiel eats up the little bit of space between them with a single, predatory step. God damn he loves how _he knows_ he’s taller than Cas, but Cas can still somehow tower over him when he looks at him the right way. “I should be shot,” he says seriously, but Dean doesn’t have a chance to respond before Cas catches his lips in searing kiss. Dean sinks into it the way he always does when Cas kisses him, and he opens his mouth willingly when he feels Castiel’s tongue tease against his lips. He makes a happy little sound in his throat when he gets his first hit of Castiel’s natural flavor, and slides his tongue against Castiel’s eagerly.

Castiel’s arms wind around him, his hands slip up his spine and come to a stop on his lower back where he pulls him in until their bodies are pressed together. Apparently Dean’s a sap now, because all he can think about is how perfectly they fit together, and how he’d be really okay with it if this is the way he’s kissed every day for the rest of his damn life.

Castiel ends the kiss in stages, first withdrawing his tongue, then clinging to only Dean’s lips like it’s killing him to pull away, and eventually ending it with one final chaste kiss that leaves Dean fisting the front of his apron to keep him on his feet.

“Better?” Castiel asks him, a smug smile on his face Dean can’t even blame him for, because if anybody should be smug about kissing, it’s Cas.

“Listen, I’m only gonna tell you this because you just killed most of my brain cells, but you _literally_ make me weak in the knees when you kiss me like that.”

Castiel cups his face and brushes his thumb across his cheekbone. “Thankfully you’re the perfect size for me to catch.” Dean is absolutely _not swooning_ over the way Cas is looking at him right now - like he’s precious and cherished - and fuck it, he’s so far gone in this moment he can barely even remember what it was like before Cas made him feel like this.

Dean’s voice is breathy and filled with awe when he says, “Fuck, Cas, you don’t even know what you’re doin’ to me.”

Castiel surges up to kiss him once more before he clears his throat and wisely takes a step back. “Before I decide the food I’ve been preparing all day long isn’t nearly as important as making you keep looking at me like that -” Wait a second. How was _he_ looking at Cas? “- I should tell you to come take a seat at the table.”

Dean takes a deep, steadying breath and nods. “Yeah, alright.”

Their fingers tangle together to take the ten steps to the kitchen table, and Castiel says, “I went all out and made everything myself. There’s garden salad with homemade honey-lemon dressing to start - though I have several bottles of store bought dressing if you’d prefer - garlic bread with cheese, and spaghetti and meatballs for the main course.”

“Jesus, no wonder you’re all sweaty and flushed. You didn’t have to do all this for me, Cas.”

“I wanted to. I haven’t had anybody other than Jimmy to cook for in a very long time and I wanted to make a meal worthy of you,” Castiel says, pulling a chair out at the table and gesturing for Dean to take a seat. As Dean scoots into place helped by Cas, he takes in the way the small square table is set. There are two black and white checkered placemats that weren’t there when they had breakfast yesterday, and a short square vase filled with bright yellow flowers with black centers sits in the middle of the table. He doesn’t know shit about flowers but they kind of look like mini sunflowers.

“Gotta tell you, I don’t think I’m worth this much work.”

“I do,” Castiel says easily. “Now, I know most people would have wine with spaghetti at a dinner date, and I have some if you’d like it, but I don’t care for wine all that much. So I’m going to have beer, but I also have soda and rye if you’d like that, or water.”

“Beer sounds good to me,” Dean says. Castiel gets two frosted glasses from the freezer and places two bottles of beer on the table.

He turns and grabs a large wooden bowl with wooden tongs and places it in the middle of the table by the flowers. He turns around again and returns with two small wooden bowls that match the big one, and finally pulls his apron off before he sits down. Dean can see for the first time that his shirt is grey and has the NASA logo on the front.

“You’re a space nerd, too?” Dean asks.

Castiel looks confused for a second before he follows Dean’s gaze to his shirt and actually face palms. “I meant to change before you got here!”

“It’s not a big deal,” Dean tells him.

“It’s still frustrating. I went out of my way to make this a nice night and then I greeted you in sweatpants, for Pete’s sake.”

Dean tries not to laugh at _for Pete’s sake_ and instead smiles at him softly. “You don’t have to be dressed up for this to be a nice night, Cas. I’m not dressed up.”

“You look very handsome,” Castiel disagrees.

Dean smiles because he knows Cas means it. “And you look good the way you are, too.”

“I suppose it would be silly to go change now,” Castiel relents. “Salad?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a bit,” Dean says bravely. Honestly, salad isn’t his favorite thing in the world, but he’s choked it down enough times that he can probably fake liking it well enough. Castiel serves him some, and then himself, and points to a little pitcher on the table.

“That’s the salad dressing I made, but I can get you something else if you’d like?” he offers.

“Nah, I’ll give this a shot since you made it,” he says, reaching for it and pouring a liberal amount all over the salad.

“I have an affinity for honey,” Castiel comments, taking the dressing and adding it to his salad. “So if you like honey, you should like this.”

“I noticed you have a thing for bees,” Dean says. Castiel looks at him quizzically. “The mug, the save the bees shirt. What’s that about?” He takes his first bite and nods appreciatively. “‘s good,” he says with his mouth still full.

Castiel smiles before he answers. “Bees are fascinating. I would explain in more detail, but I’m all-too aware that once I start talking about bees I have a hard time stopping, and I’ve bored more people than I’d care to admit with it.”

“Yap away, man. I’m pretty sure I could listen to you read the phone book without getting bored,” Dean admits.

“Promise you’ll stop me if you need to?”

“You got it,” Dean promises.

“Well, for starters, did you know that the buzzing sound a bee makes is because of how fast they beat their wings? They have four wings, and they can make them beat more than two hundred times per second, which is actually what causes the buzzing sound.”

Dean shakes his head, genuinely surprised to hear that. “Did not know that. And that’s a lot of beats per second.”

“My brain can’t even really process just how fast that is. There isn’t anything I could do more than a few times in a second,” he says animatedly.

And that’s how a good chunk of their dinner is spent, with Castiel talking his ear off about bees. The best part is that it’s actually interesting. He had no idea that honey was the only food in existence that has everything necessary to sustain life, or that one bee would only collect one twelfth of a teaspoon of honey in its entire life. Usually he wouldn’t give a crap about this kind of thing, but it’s easy to see how passionate Cas is about it, and with his eyes lit up, he’s impossible to look away from.

Even with salad and garlic bread, he manages to stuff in two servings of the best spaghetti and meatballs he’s ever had, and feels like he needs to be rolled out of the kitchen when he wipes his face (again) with his napkin.

“God damn, Cas. Everything was amazing. I can’t believe you made all of it yourself!”

“I like to cook,” Castiel says simply.

“I like to cook too, but this was like a whole other level. Thank you. Really.”

“I haven’t even gotten to the best part,” Castiel says, grinning now.

“There can’t possibly be more food,” Dean replies, rubbing his stomach soothingly.

“Well, I heard a rumor that you liked pie.”

Dean’s jaw drops at the same time his heart fills. “Shut up - you did not make me pie!”

“I didn’t know what kind to make, and I didn’t want to ask since I wanted it to be a surprise, so I just went with apple. I hope that’s okay?” he asks uncertainly.

“Holy shit!” he says on a laugh. “Seriously? You seriously made me pie?” How did he hit the jackpot with Cas? “For the record, there is no kind of pie that _isn’t_ okay. And I love apple!”

“I’m not quite ready to eat some myself yet, but do you want a piece?” Castiel checks. “Your excitement is almost palpable.”

Dean groans. “I do - you don’t know how much I do - but if I eat another bite I might actually explode.”

“Well, we don’t want that. I kind of like you all in one piece,” he teases. “Maybe we can relax for a bit and eat a slice later?”

“That sounds awesome. Man, I’m still thrown that you did all of this for me,” he says honestly. He can’t think of another time he’s been with anybody who’s ever made this much of an effort with him. It makes him feel special in a way he’s never felt before.

“I don’t know what I wouldn’t do for you, Dean,” Castiel says seriously.

And shit. There goes his heart again, just shooting right out of his chest and flying directly at Cas like he’s being reeled in like a fish on a pole. That might explain why he gets to his feet and walks the few steps just to sit sideways in Castiel’s lap and throw his arms around his neck like that’s something he’s _ever_ done before in his life. When he realizes what he’s doing, he’s mortified, and pulls Castiel’s head to rest against his chest so he doesn’t have to look at his face. Castiel’s arms go around his waist, and Dean absentmindedly starts stroking through his hair.

And god, his heart actually _aches._ It’s so full of tenderness and affection for this man that he has absolutely no idea what to do with himself (hence sitting on his damn lap). He wants to tell him, but he also doesn’t want to scare him away, and he knows there’s no way he’d be able to say what he’s feeling without doing that. So they just sit there, soaking up the closeness until Castiel finally says, “Perhaps we’d be more comfortable cuddling on the couch.”

“I dunno, I’m pretty comfortable,” Dean jokes.

“As much as I love your ass, it’s slowly but surely making my legs go numb.”

“Tree trunks like that getting numb from my tiny little ass?” Dean teases, making a joke to mask how embarrassed he still is that he went to sit in Castiel’s lap without being invited. But he gets up and grabs their plates to scrape into the garbage can.

“Hey, you don’t clean up here,” Castiel tells him.

“I do when you cook,” Dean insists.

“No. I only have a few hours with you before you’ll leave again and I don’t want to spend them cleaning the kitchen.”

Dean smiles but argues again. “It’s not like you’re not gonna see me again.”

“Doesn’t matter. Please, Dean. I can take care of this after you go home. Let me spend time with you until then.”

His heart melts and he wonders if there’s anybody alive who could possibly say no to those blue eyes when they look all pleading like that.

“I’m gonna have to work on saying no to you,” Dean says, but he leaves the plates and takes Cas’s hand to allow himself to be led into the living room.

 _“Love, Simon_ just came out on Netflix. I thought we could watch that?” Castiel mentions.

“I saw it in the theater with Charlie, but I’ll watch it again.”

“Oh. I don’t even know the last time I was at the theater. Maybe when I saw _The Last Jedi?”_

“Well I guess I know what our next date needs to be,” Dean says. “Making out in the movie theater.”

Castiel laughs as he sits on the couch. He reclines against the arm of the couch and spreads his legs for Dean to climb in between them. He lies belly to belly on Cas and closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of being close to him again. Cas scrolls through Netflix until he finds the movie, and once he hits _play,_ he pulls Dean even closer and doesn’t let go the entire time. Even better than that, his hands can’t stay still, either. They drift up and down his back, along his shoulders, and through his hair.

He’s not at all surprised that they’re both noticeably aroused by the end of the movie. Dean got hard almost embarrassingly fast because of how good the tip of his cock feels sliding against the stretchy satin. When the credits start to roll, he slithers up Castiel’s torso to mouth at his neck, and Castiel slides his hands down to cup Dean’s ass. He barely holds in a needy _please,_ and instead sucks and nips at Castiel’s skin, drawing a groan so deep from him he can feel it vibrating in Castiel’s chest. It only takes one roll of Castiel’s hips for the two of them to start moving together into a slow and sinuous rhythm that quickly picks up heat.

“Shit. Sorry,” Castiel says, pulling away breathlessly. “We don't have to do this.”

Dean stops moving reluctantly, already breathing hard. “Not in the mood?”

Castiel laughs humorlessly. “I think you can feel the answer to that question.”

“So what’s the matter?”

“I just don’t want you to feel like we have to fool around every time we spend time together. I’m interested in you for more than sex,” Castiel tells him.

“I’ve never felt like that. Not even for a second,” Dean says quickly. Then a terrifying thought occurs to him. With the way he’s been throwing himself at Cas... “Do _you_ feel like that?”

“No! Not at all,” Castiel answers. “I can tell you care about me.”

“You don’t even know how much,” Dean confesses. Castiel smiles and dips his head down to catch Dean’s lips in another kiss. Dean rocks against him again and says, “So we don’t have a problem here, right?”

“Only if you stop again,” Castiel says teasingly, sucking on his bottom lip and sliding his hands back down to push his shirt up. Dean closes his eyes as his tongue delves into Castiel’s mouth, loving the way Castiel’s big hands feel on his bare skin. Now that Cas has the okay, he dips his hands under Dean’s jeans and onto his boxers, which makes Dean moan into Castiel’s mouth and Castiel pull away with a gasp.

“Are you wearing panties?” he breathes.

“Silk boxers,” Dean explains nervously.

Castiel massages his ass cheeks in his hands. “They feel incredible. Really soft.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says with a grin.

“Can I see?”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask, _Promise you won’t laugh?_ but he doesn’t, because he knows now that Cas would never laugh at him. Knowing he looks best in them without a shirt on, he gets up on his knees to pull that off first, and then stands to shimmy out of his jeans. His heart’s racing so fast he thinks he might actually have a heart attack. He really, _really_ wants Cas to be into this because he’s really into it himself, and he wants to be able to share it with him.

When his jeans pool at his feet, he steps out of them and looks up at Cas questioningly. Thankfully, Castiel’s expression is one of deep appreciation cloaked with heat, and he scoots forwards to the edge of the couch cushion to pull Dean in. He runs his hands up the back of his legs before they grope his ass firmly.

“Oh fuck, look at you,” Castiel says reverently. “You’re so gorgeous, Dean. I can’t believe I get to see you like this.” One hand comes around the front to palm over his erection, and Dean’s eyes slip closed with ecstasy when he feels the drag of the satin against his sensitive cockhead. “Can you turn around so I can see your ass?” Dean chuckles, but spins around so Cas can look his fill. “Jesus Christ.” His hands are back on his ass, squeezing and massaging it in his palms, and Dean can’t resist cupping his cock in his hand and rubbing it through the satin. _“Perfect._ Does it feel good?” Castiel asks him.

“So fucking good, baby,” Dean says honestly. Then a light bulb goes off. He turns around again, but before he can say anything, Castiel leans in to mouth at his cock. The moist heat through the fabric is sensational, and Dean has to brace himself on Castiel’s shoulders so his knees don’t buckle.

“You love this,” Castiel breathes, his breath hot on his groin. He sucks at the tip of Dean’s cock, which is _just barely_ contained at the top of his boxers, and Dean moans like a whore. “You’re so wet already I can feel it through the satin.”

 _“Fuck,”_ Dean gasps, struggling against the need for friction. His fingers grip into Castiel’s shirt and he frowns. “Take off your shirt. Wanna see you.”

Castiel strips it off, and Dean takes the couple of seconds to breathe again. His idea comes back to him and he says, “Pants, too. You can feel it with me.”

Castiel wiggles out of his pants - much easier than trying to get skinny jeans off - and Dean realizes belatedly that Castiel was going commando. And _holy shit_ is that hot.

Because he would rather Cas be on top, Dean climbs onto the couch and lies down, waiting anxiously for Cas to come pin him down. Of course, because Cas is a fucking tease, he licks and nips his way up the inside of his leg, stopping to suck a mark on the inside of his leg high enough that his cheek grazes Dean’s straining cock. It takes all of his restraint not to hump against his face.

Then Cas’s mouth is on his cock again, sucking and licking at him through his underwear, the dampness of the satin making Dean hard as a fucking rock. He starts writhing and bucking beneath him, and when Cas holds him down by his hips he’s turned on even more by the display of strength and he can actually _feel_ precome seep into the satin.

“Mmmf fuck. I’m so - I need -” Dean moans, tossing his head side to side, completely _lost_ with pleasure.

Castiel moves up his body, sliding his palm along his cock as he kisses a wet trail up his chest and to his collarbone. Dean eagerly ruts against Castiel’s hand while Cas sucks on his skin mercilessly and leaves another hickey in his wake before he _finally_ lines up their cocks and pins Dean with his weight.

Castiel exhales on a shuddering breath and Dean nearly loses it right there.

“Mmm, Cas, feels so good,” Dean tells him, gripping at his back and trying desperately to get him even closer.

Castiel rolls his hips experimentally and Dean moans long and loud as their cocks slide together with nothing but damp satin between them, making it feel like sparks explode all over his body. “Fuck that’s smooth,” Castiel gasps. “I think you’re onto something.”

Dean’s heart soars as he asks, “You like it?”

Castiel grinds down against him, stealing his breath. “I love it.” Dean moans again and Castiel nips at the skin pulled tight over his Adam’s apple. “I love seeing you like this,” he says, dragging his teeth along his neck. “I love feeling your cock so hard and your boxers so soft. I love your skin,” he whispers into his ear. “I love everything about you. I love - your body. You’re so perfect, so beautiful, Dean.”

“Cas, I -"  _I love you._ “I love everything about you too,” he sighs.

Castiel captures his lips in a mind-melting kiss, and Dean’s hands fist in his hair to keep him there so that lingering thought doesn’t slip out. Everything feels so fucking good. Cas hard against him, his boxers damp with their combined arousal, the hard line of muscle pinning him into the couch cushions, Castiel’s ever-present stubble rubbing against his face.

He lets out another needy moan and gets one hand on Castiel’s ass, pulling him in against him to urge him to move harder and faster. He rubs himself against the friction Castiel’s hard cock provides completely without inhibitions, having to break their kiss when it feels so damn good he can’t concentrate enough to keep kissing him.

He can feel his impending orgasm already building inside of him and both curses and blesses his panty kink for getting him so turned on so fast.

“I’m - ah _fuck_ \- close already,” Dean pants.

“I can tell,” Castiel says, his voice low and rough the way he only ever hears it during sex. “Are you going to come in your underwear, beautiful?”

Dean feels a thrill run through him at the thought. “Yeah, Cas. So fucking hard.”

Castiel’s voice is almost a whisper when he asks, “You’re gonna make a mess in those pretty panties, aren’t you, Dean?”

Dean bites down on his bottom lip, trying and failing to hold in the whimper that comes out as his arousal kicks up another notch.

“Mmm you like that,” Castiel says knowingly. “You want me to come on them, too?”

 _“Oh fuck,”_ Dean gasps, driven impossibly close to the edge just from hearing Cas say it. “Please.”

“I’m close, too. You look so sexy like this. So fucking needy for it.”

“Yeah, fuck, I am. I - I want you to fuck me in my panties, Cas,” he begs.

“Unnngh, Dean. I will, my love,” he promises. “You’ll wear a nice skimpy pair for me, won’t you? You have some like that?”

“Mmmhmm,” is all Dean can get out as he chases his orgasm blindly, the picture Castiel’s painting for him helping to get him there faster and faster.

“I bet you’re so fucking pretty in them,” Castiel says, leaning into crush his lips firmly to Dean’s over and over until they can’t breathe again and they have to break apart. “I’ll push them to the side and fuck you from behind - right in front of a mirror so you can see how fucking gorgeous you are when you come inside your pretty panties.”

He can see it so vividly that it causes the heat to gather inside of him all at once, and all it takes is Castiel’s cock dragging across his one more time and he loses it. He buries his face into Castiel’s neck as his body goes stiff as a board and his orgasm is wrenched out of him _hard_ with a guttural cry. The mess he unloads inside of his underwear is sticky and warm, and it’s the good kind of dirty that makes each pulse of his orgasm stronger and stronger.

“Deeeean,” Castiel moans.

“Lemme see, lemme see, _please,”_ Dean begs.

Castiel gets up on his elbow, runs his hand through Dean’s cum and uses it to slick himself up. He pumps his cock once, twice, and he explodes all over the front of Dean’s panties, painting the dark blue fabric with ribbons of white. It’s hands down the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen and he’s never been so turned on _after_ an orgasm in his whole life. Castiel lies back on top of him, smearing both of their cum into the satin and against Dean’s spent cock, and another broken moan is dragged from his lips at how deliciously dirty it feels.

Castiel’s gasping for breath, but he presses kisses into his shoulder and the curve of his neck, and Dean can’t do anything but lie there and wait for his heart to stop racing so painfully hard.

He clenches his ass, still wishing he could be filled, and forces out a shaky breath.

“Are you okay?” Castiel asks a minute later, sounding rather proud of himself.

“Don’t sound so smug,” Dean answers, his voice rough and raspy.

“If that was half as good for you as it was for me, I deserve to be smug.”

“Are you kidding me? That’s easily in the top three best sexual encounters I’ve ever had in my entire life. You deserve a fucking parade,” Dean says truthfully.

Castiel chuckles and lifts his head to look up at him. “What do I have to do to get the number one spot?”

“Dude, top three are all you. Picking me up and fucking me bareback are one and two,” Dean says easily.

“Mmm,” Castiel hums happily, propping his head up on his hand. “I liked picking you up, too, but I was afraid you might think it was emasculating. Of course, that was before I realized you liked panties.”

“Pfft. I don’t feel like any less of a man in panties _or_ when you pick me up. I feel like you’re the bigger, stronger man, but that doesn’t make me less of one.”

“Dean,” Castiel sighs happily, dropping his head back onto his chest and snuggling in. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Dean freezes.

He’s hallucinating.

There’s no fucking way this amazingly gorgeous, wonderfully weird, nerdy as hell man could feel the same thing _he’s_ feeling so unbelievably fast.

“I know it’s crazy, and believe me, I tried to talk myself out of it many times already, but then you go and say things like that and my heart is just - it’s _so full_ it’s overwhelming,” Castiel says. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted.”

“Cas,” Dean says. He’s so affected by what Cas just said that his name comes out in almost a whine.

“I know - I’m sorry, I know it’s -”

“Nuh-uh. You don’t know,” Dean says firmly. “I feel the same way.” Castiel pops his head up again, and Dean smiles at both the sex hair and the shock and relief all over his face. “It’s fuckin’ nuts, but I’m falling for you, too. Faster than I ever thought was possible until you.”

Castiel’s smile is breathtaking, and the kiss they share next, with nothing but Dean’s ruined boxers between them, is the single happiest moment of his entire life. He can’t even think of anything that could make him happier... right up until Cas says, “Do you think you have room for that pie now?”

Dean feels his heart flip flop. “You know you’re perfect, right?”

“I do what I can,” Castiel says with a smile.

“I’ll just go clean up a bit, and then I guess it’s my turn to go commando.”

“You can leave your underwear here and I’ll wash them for you if you want,” Castiel offers. “Just throw them in the hamper in my bedroom. And I’ll heat up the pie while you wash up. Do you want ice cream?”

“Is the sky fuckin’ blue, Cas?”

Castiel chuckles and stands up to wipe himself off with his t-shirt. He steps into his sweatpants, and walks into the kitchen bare chested like he isn’t frying Dean’s brain cells all over again with how hot he looks.

Dean shakes his head in an attempt to clear it, cleans up, redresses, and finds Cas back in the living room. He has two slices of pie with scoops of ice cream on them sitting on the coffee table, and Dean goes over to join him eagerly.

“It’s quite good,” Castiel says around a bite. “I started without you.” Dean gives him a dirty look and Castiel immediately adds, “I had to make sure it was good before I served it to you.”

Dean huffs in amusement as he takes his seat beside Cas. “That’s a pile of BS, but nice try.”

He digs into his own piece, making sure to get ice cream and pie onto his fork before he takes a bite, and then he’s moaning all over again.

“That’s quickly becoming a familiar sound,” Castiel teases. “And I know it well enough to know you’re enjoying yourself.”

“It’s fuckin’ awesome!” Dean says enthusiastically. “Seriously really good.”

“I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry to say you have Jimmy to thank.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks.

Castiel nods, explaining, “I told him the plan for tonight and he let me in on the pie secret. He let me test the recipe he’s considering for _Cup of Life_ as long as I promised to tell you it’s his apology for calling you easy.”

Dean laughs lightly. “I wasn’t as pissed about that as you were. I knew he was joking.”

“Even still, he apologizes,” Cas says.

“Alright. No hard feelings on my end,” Dean says. “Though he coulda just told me this morning.”

“I suppose some things are harder to say out loud than others,” Castiel offers.

Dean snorts. “He had no problem texting me to rag on me, he could’ve apologized that way, too.”

Castiel stops with his fork halfway to his mouth. “You and Jimmy still text?”

Dean shrugs. “Sometimes, I guess. Not every day or anything.”

“Oh.”

It’s easy to tell that Cas isn’t pleased just by the clipped response and the tone of his voice. “Babe, c’mon. I just told you I’m falling for you, you don’t have anything to worry about with your brother.” Dean pulls his phone out of his pocket and hands it over. “Look for yourself.”

Castiel reaches for it but hesitates. “Will it make me look like I don’t trust you if I look?”

Dean shrugs. “We’ve only known each other a week, Cas. It’s okay if there’s not 100% trust there yet. I’ll earn it. Go ahead.”

Castiel finds his way to his text thread with Jimmy and scrolls through it, relaxing more and more as he reads them. “You don’t even answer him half the time,” Castiel comments.

“Don’t always have anything to say,” Dean explains.

He looks pretty happy about it when he says, “You always answer me.”

“That’s ‘cause I like you the most,” Dean says, nudging him a little. “Seriously though, if you aren’t comfortable with this,” he says, gesturing to his phone, “I can just stop answering him altogether until you are.”

“No,” Castiel says quickly. “I want to be okay with it. I’d like it if you could be friends.”

“Me too, honestly, but I’d get it if it’s weird for you.”

“Are you always this understanding?” Castiel asks.

“Nah, but I’ve got a soft spot for you. Especially sitting here with no shirt on.”

Castiel grins. “It’s kind of nice that being with you half naked and eating pie isn’t awkward.”

“And you warned me you would be, too.”

“It’s just easy to be with you. I think it’s part of why I’m falling so hard. I feel like I can be myself,” Castiel says.

Dean smiles at how he recently had pretty much exactly the same thoughts. “Good. I kinda like you the way you are.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You _kinda_ like me but you _really_ like the pie?” Castiel teases.

Knowing he’s been led directly into a trap, he responds, “Know what I’d kinda really like?”

“That doesn’t make any -”

“To kiss you when you _taste_ like pie,” Dean interrupts him, leaning over to do just that. He licks between Castiel’s lips, drawing more of the apple pie flavor into his own mouth, and he only stops because he feels a wet, cold finger slide down his cheek.

He wrenches his lips away and _tries_ to glare at Cas, but he looks so adorably pleased with himself for wiping ice cream on his face he can’t muster it up. Instead, he dives on him face first and wipes his cheek off on Cas’s bare stomach, which sends them both into a fit of laughter.

“Okay, okay, I give!” Dean says quickly once Cas has him pinned by his wrists. With their size difference, there’s no freaking way he’s going to win against him, even in a play fight. And he’s about to get hard all over again if Cas keeps holding him down like this.

“Hmmm. And what do I get if I let you go?” Castiel asks, still holding his wrists.

“A movie date tomorrow?” Dean tries.

Castiel smiles happily and releases him at once. “It’s a deal.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Content warning:** There is a brief instance of voyeurism between Dean and another woman in the building across from him in this chapter. Castiel is involved and it's completely consensual between all parties, but if you don't want to read that part, just skip from Robin down to Batman, and you won't have missed anything important :)

Dean grimaces as Castiel’s cum starts seeping out of his ass.

“I suppose that means it’s time for a shower,” Castiel comments, nosing along his neck.

“You know I kinda like it. Just blows that we gotta get up to take care of the mess,” Dean answers on a yawn.

“That’s only because you like going back to bed after morning sex.”

“And you don’t ever shut up long enough to let me,” Dean complains, a familiar argument that has no heat behind it.

“And you still love me anyway.”

Dean can’t help but smile at that. It’d taken them a whole month to work up the nerve to admit it out loud even after the _I’m falling for you_ conversation, but last night Cas was the one who finally bit the bullet and said it first. Dean had all but tripped over himself to say it back as soon as he could, and they just finished round three of mind-blowing sex since then.

It’s been six weeks since they started dating, and they’re still in that can’t keep their hands to themselves honeymoon phase of their relationship. Cas insists it’s not a phase and that Dean’s exactly the body type he’s always been attracted to and that it will never fade for him, but Dean has more realistic expectations.

Then again, they did just manage to have sex for the third time in less than 18 hours when he was sure Cas would never be able to get it up that fast after round two, so what the hell does he know?

“Yeah, I love you, you nerd,” Dean answers.

“Let’s go have that shower.”

But of course, the minute Castiel opens the bedroom door, they’re greeted with a chorus of meowing from Batman and Robin, and the two of them start darting in and out from between their feet.

“Freakin’ cats,” Dean grumbles.

He literally has cum dripping from him, he hasn’t had any coffee yet, and playing hopscotch with a couple of kittens is not his idea of a great time right now.

“They’re just hungry. You’d think you of all people would understand that,” Castiel teases. “Are you hungry, guys?” Castiel asks them. He’s answered with more meowing, which Castiel replies to again. “I bet you are. We slept in, didn’t we? And you were out here wasting away to nothing!”

Dean shakes his head, sure he will never get used to the conversations Cas manages to have with cats that don’t even speak their language. “You’re just encouraging them to be spoiled.”

“Oh, yeah. And you aren’t _constantly_ feeding Batman scraps while we eat,” Castiel says with a significant look over his shoulder. Dean lets his gaze drop to his naked ass as he walks away, and goes into the bathroom to start the shower.

He thinks about what Cas just said and smiles to himself. He does feed Batman whenever he can, even though Cas tries to act mad about it. He knows Cas secretly thinks he’s cute though, so he doesn’t really mind the huffing and puffing he gets for it. Admittedly, he and Robin didn’t start off great, with the whole attacking his foot thing, but the first time Batman voluntarily crawled out from under the couch and made his way over to Dean, he was a goner.

It’s kind of crazy how big he’s gotten in the last month and a half. He was so scrawny back then. All long, skinny legs, and this giant head and bright blue eyes (that _might_ have reminded him of the guy he was crazy about) with the softest black fur sticking up everywhere. That first night, he had used his claws to climb up the arm of the couch, then sauntered right over, turned in a circle, and laid down between Dean’s feet.

Dean and Cas had both been so shocked that he actually came out of hiding for something other than food, neither of them had moved a muscle for hours, afraid that if they did they’d scare him away and he’d never come out again. Batman slowly edged closer as the night wore on, and Dean ended up staying much later than he usually would on a work night when the kitten had curled up on his chest and fell asleep after purring up a storm.

From then on, Batman would come out and snuggle with him anytime he came over. Cas was pissed that he’d hide whenever he was home alone and would only come out for Dean, but reluctantly agreed it was better than not coming out at all. Dean felt a certain connection with the little guy, and even bought him a little Batman print bow tie that made Castiel go all gooey eyed, which was a bonus since he hadn’t even done it for Cas. As far as he was concerned, Batman was the coolest damn cat around, and he deserved to look dapper as fuck in his bow tie.

By the time Batman and Robin were big enough to be put up for adoption at three months old, Dean was so attached to the little guys that he was prepared to beg Cas to keep them if he had to. He can’t have pets in his apartment, and they’d only been dating for less than a month at the time, so he knew it was a lot to ask. He actually had this big speech worked out and the money to pay the adoption fees himself if Cas would just keep them for him until he could find somewhere else to live, but it was completely unnecessary.

All Dean had to say was, “I know this is a lot to ask, but please can we keep them, Cas?” and Castiel had agreed instantly.

“Of course, Dean,” he had said. “I did promise I’d give you anything.”

Cas had admitted since then that all it took was one look at the expression on Dean’s face and he would have given him the moon if he asked, and Dean had smirked, having already figured that out in the meantime. He made sure not to take advantage of it too much, though. Had to keep it up his sleeve for the big stuff.

Dean had let the water warm up while he brushed his teeth, so he just stepped under the spray when Castiel whipped open the shower curtain to join him. Castiel’s body was cold compared to Dean’s skin warm from the shower, and apparently Cas was enjoying holding Dean’s smaller frame against him to help warm himself up faster. Dean was cursing a blue streak and wriggling to get away, but Cas just held him like he was nothing and laughed against his ear until he was satisfied and finally let him go.

“You are _such_ a dick,” Dean complains, but really, he knows Cas is perfect for him.

“I love you, though,” Castiel says, a smile audible in his voice.

Immediately, Dean softens towards him. “How long do you think that’s gonna keep you outta trouble?”

“I’m hoping a while,” Castiel says.

Dean thinks he’s probably right.

The first time Dean invited Cas over to his apartment, Castiel had been fascinated by the view of his living room from his window.

“You can see a lot more of my apartment than I thought you’d be able to,” he comments. “I really should buy some curtains.”

“Don’t want you falling for another handsome son of a bitch who’s peeping in on you like a creeper,” Dean agrees.

“Like that would ever happen,” Castiel dismisses easily. “It does beg the question though, have you ever seen anybody else?”

“Well, most of the time I’m only looking out the window to check to see if you’re home.”

“Because that’s normal,” Castiel teases him.

“So I don’t really look around all that much.”

“But?” Castiel asks, hearing it coming in Dean’s tone of voice.

“There’s an older guy I’ve seen there,” he points. “And there’s a lady in that apartment,” Dean says, pointing to the window with leopard print curtains, “that I’ve seen a time or two.”

“Did she see you?” Castiel asks.

“Yeah, she waved once. I waved back. Exhilarating stuff,” he deadpans.

“What does she look like?” Castiel asks. “I wonder if I’ve seen her in the building.”

“Uh, can’t see that well from this far away. But she has long dark hair, and she’s pretty short. And don’t slap me or anything, but it was kinda hard not to notice she’s, well, built,” he says, putting his hands in front of his chest to indicate she had a pair of huge knockers.

“Is that so?” Castiel says, amusement audible in his voice.

“Just describing her to the best of my abilities. Since you asked,” Dean explains, feigning innocence.

“Mhmm,” Castiel replies. “I think I know who you’re talking about, actually. I haven’t met her, but I’ve seen a woman around the building who fits that description. And waving’s fine, but you better not go bumping into her in any grocery stores.”

Dean smiles, knowing he’s only joking. “Promise to keep my head up at all times.”

It’s been almost six months since then, and they’ve been taking advantage of their windows whenever they can. Sometimes it’s for sappy shit, like blowing each other kisses before bed or first thing in the morning. Sometimes it’s for Dean to see if Cas is taking breaks from work to eat and drink when he gets really immersed in drawing. Sometimes it’s because Cas texts him to look out the window, and he gets to watch as Cas performs another bit for him. He’s mastered pretending to walk down the stairs, paddling a canoe, and getting eaten by a shark, and Dean falls a little bit more in love with him every time he sees the silly side of him come through.

Some of his favorite times are times like right now, though. When they’re both horny and haven’t had the time or opportunity to see each other that day, and they jerk off for each other in front of their windows. They put their phones on speaker sometimes, dirty talking while they jerk off, but Cas has such a filthy fucking mouth that he mostly renders Dean speechless and makes him come embarrassingly fast. So they don’t do that every time.

Tonight’s encounter started because Dean just got back from a long weekend away to visit Sam. He wanted to bring Cas with him, but Cas had a deadline for a project that Dean had been distracting him from (according to Cas), so they’d agreed that Dean would go ahead and Cas would stay behind to finish work. Three days is the longest they’d ever spent away from each other since they started dating, and _definitely_ the longest they’ve gone without having sex. The plan had been for Dean to get in late Monday night, but he was secretly hoping he’d be able to make it over in time to surprise Cas. Instead, he got stuck in long weekend traffic on the way home, and the ten hour drive had turned into almost thirteen. By the time he got home, it was late and he was irritable.

He’d called Cas when he saw his light was still on even though it was after midnight, and Cas had walked over to the window with a pair of Dean’s panties in his hand and a bulge in his pants Dean could see from where he was.

He’d put his phone down quickly so he could undress, and the sight of Castiel burying his face in his the soft fabric of his panties had him hard and aching by the time he was naked.

“They still smell like you,” Castiel tells you. “And they’re incredibly soft.”

“You get hard just holding them, don’t you?” Dean asks him, spitting into his hand and starting to stroke himself.

“I do. I think about how gorgeous you are in them. How sexy it is when your cock gets so hard and big for me that the tiny scrap of fabric can’t hold you inside of them anymore.”

“Fuck, I missed you, baby,” Dean says, already breathing hard. Then he hears himself and says, “But not - not just for this.”

Castiel chuckles lightly. “I know, my love. But it’s about this right now, because I’m rock hard thinking about you and watching you fuck your fist. I thought about you all weekend.”

“What - what did you think about?” Dean asks, desperate to hear that gravelly voice of his talk dirty to him.

“I kept waking up hard every morning. Three mornings in a row I woke up and reached for you so I could fuck your tight little ass, Dean. And you weren’t there.”

“Wish I was.”

“I know you do. I know you love it when you wake up already split open on my cock, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes.

“I thought about how I’d fuck you from behind, and how you’d be desperate to pull me closer. I thought about how I could roll you on top of me and turn you around so I could watch your ass bouncing up and down on my cock.”

“Fuck,” Dean sighs.

“I thought about how fucking breathtaking your ass is in lace.” Dean watches when Cas brings his panties down to his cock. “I already fucked myself with these panties of yours once.”

 _“Jesus Christ.”_ _  
_

“But I didn’t cum on them, because I know how much you like it when I save that for you.”

“Fuck yes,” Dean agrees breathlessly. “You gonna show me?”

“I will. They feel so good, Dean. The smooth glide against my hard cock. Then the drag when they’re starting to get wet.”

“Mmmm,” Dean agrees, able to recall the the sensation perfectly when he closes his eyes.

“Feels better when you’re wearing them, though. When I’m riding your ass with the silk or lace between us.”

“Please,” Dean begs mindlessly, tipping his head back wantonly.

“You’re already close.”

“Missed you,” Dean reminds him.

“Eyes on me, Dean,” Castiel says sharply. He has no idea how he could tell they were closed from so far away, but he snaps them open anyway, and before he can focus on Cas again, his eyes fall on the woman watching him instead.

“Fuck,” Dean gasps in surprise, moving behind the wall.

“Dean? What’s the matter?”

Dean takes a shaky breath. “That woman from your building was watching me.”

Castiel lets out a low groan that goes right to Dean’s cock.

“Cas?” Dean checks.

“Do you - do you mind?”

And _that_ goes right to his cock, too.

 _“What?”_ he croaks.

“Do you mind if she watches?”

Dean’s heart is already racing harder than it ever has before. “Do you?”

“I - I find the idea of somebody else watching while I get you off incredibly arousing.”

“Thought you didn’t want to let anybody else see me come?” Dean says.

“She can’t see the look on your face, or how dark your eyes get, or feel your ass clench around her like I can. It won’t be her name you call when you come, will it Dean?”

“No. Only you, Cas,” Dean says, stroking his cock again.

“Is she still there?”

Dean peeks his head around and sees her standing there with her hands on her hips. “Yeah.”

“Wave to her,” Castiel says.

“Are you sure?”

“If you want to, I’m sure.”

Dean inhales deeply, then stands in the window again, cock still hard and aching in his hand, and waves to the woman across the way. She waves back and lifts her shirt up over her head.

“Uh - she took her shirt off,” Dean says, immediately looking back down to Cas.

“You’re incredibly sexy, Dean. I can’t exactly blame her.”

Dean glances back and his cock jumps when he sees she’s not wearing a bra. “Dude - she’s not wearing anything under her shirt.”

“You can see her breasts?” Dean bites down on his lower lip and nods. “Words, Dean.”

“Fuck. Yes. Not like, details, but I can see them.”

“What makes you harder, Dean? Her nipples or mine?”

“Yours,” Dean answers truthfully, images of Castiel’s nipple piercings coming to mind. “So fucking hot, baby.”

“That’s right,” Castiel says cockily, his confidence making Dean’s dick swell even more. “So you can look at her if you want. I know you prefer me.”

“I do,” Dean promises. But considering she’s the forbidden fruit, he looks over at her again and sees her massaging her breast with one hand while her other hand is down her pants. Once his brain puts together that she’s masturbating watching him, Dean has to grip the base of his cock to stop himself from going off like a rocket. “She’s getting off, Cas,” he says, his voice strangled.

“She’s watching you stroke your big cock and wishing you were fucking her,” Castiel says, his voice lower. “But you want to be fucked instead, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Dean breathes. “Want you inside of me so fucking bad. I’m so close, but I miss your huge cock, Cas.”

“Maybe she could watch me fuck you,” Castiel offers, his voice getting tighter the longer he talks. Dean knows he’s close, too. “I could bend you over right in front of the window so she could watch how much you like it when I fuck you.”

“Yeah,” Dean says eagerly. “Show her I’m yours, Cas.”

“I’d fuck you so good you wouldn’t even be able to look at her,” Castiel promises darkly.

“Really hard.”

“So hard you’d have to brace yourself on the window,” Castiel says. “Do it now. One hand on the window, Dean.”

Dean does as he asks, and the cool glass sends a pulse of sensation through his body. “Bend over like I’m fucking you from behind. Fucking into you so hard your fingers are white on the window.”

“Fuck, I want you so bad. Need you, Cas. Please.”

 _“Dean,”_ Castiel growls. “You’re going to come hard, aren’t you, beautiful?”

“Fuck yes.”

“I want you to come all over the glass for me. So hard for me, Dean.”

“Yeah,” Dean promises, knowing he’s only seconds away.

“You’re gonna come so hard that she’s gonna see it splash on the window. Her pussy’s gonna clench around her fingers wishing it was your cock.”

“Oh fuck,” Dean gasps, his release building quickly. He glances over at her again and sees her head tilted back, her long hair cascading down behind her, and her fingers working furiously beneath her skirt. Just knowing she thinks he’s hot, knowing that she’s watching Cas get him off from another building, knowing how fucking good it feels to be inside of something hot and wet...

“Eyes on me,” Castiel says again. And looking back at Castiel rutting into his panties with one hand and rolling his nipple piercing in the other sends him flying over the edge.

“Cas! Cas, fuck! Fuck, god, oh god, ahhhhh,” he groans as he does what Cas wanted and aims his cum right onto the glass. It’s been days since he came, so it’s thick and white, and dirty as fucking hell.

“Oh Dean. So beautiful,” Castiel chokes out as he slumps forwards into his panties. Hearing Cas and knowing he just came all over his panties is enough to make another dribble of cum slide down his cock, and he exhales on another loud moan for Cas.

He grabs his shirt to clean off his hand and cock, and then collapses onto the couch, still breathing heavily.

“That was - crazy,” he finally says.

“Good though,” Castiel adds.

“Pretty obvious, yeah,” Dean agrees.

“I really would like to fuck you so she could see sometime.”

Dean chuckles, though he feels slightly uncomfortable with the idea now that he isn’t desperate to come. “I can’t believe your possessive ass is down for that.”

“I would never be okay with somebody else touching you. But looking doesn’t cause any harm.”

“I, uh, I don’t really wanna share,” Dean admits.

“Dean, I would never ask you that,” Castiel says, his voice soft now. “Not only do I know what happened the last time you did that with somebody you cared about, but I am, as you said, too possessive to ever want to share the pleasure you give me with anybody else.”

“Don’t even want to. And I don’t wanna share you either, Cas.”

“Never. I am yours as you are mine. And that’s not ever going to change.” _Not ever_ sounds pretty damn good to him. “I’m sorry if I made you do something you didn’t want to do.”

“No, I was into it in the moment. Felt kinda weird to be watching somebody else, though. I didn’t mind that she was watching me, but I felt... wrong watching her and getting, you know -”

“Turned on by it?” Castiel offers.

“Yeah. Felt like I was cheating on you or something,” Dean admits, shame sitting uncomfortably inside of his stomach.

“Were you turned on by her or by the fact that she was watching you?” Castiel asks. “Not that it matters. It’s perfectly normal to be attracted to other people.”

“I wasn’t, though,” Dean says, remembering now. “I was thinking that it was kinda hot that somebody was getting off because I was - but it wasn’t _her_ specifically, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Castiel says. Castiel’s quiet for a minute and Dean can hear a door open and close. He must be locking up for the night. Then Cas says, “Why do you think you were okay with a threesome previously but feel so guilty over the thought of being aroused by another body now?”

“I don’t know.” That’s a good question. He thinks back about it and comes up with, “I guess I didn’t really mind sharing Bela because... well, I guess I didn’t really feel like she was mine. I mean, she was at the time, but I knew we weren’t gonna be forever or anything. And she was never really okay with me being bi, so I wasn’t uh, fully satisfied you know?”

“She wasn’t willing to give you everything you wanted,” Castiel rephrases.

“Yeah. Exactly. Wasn’t even okay with me having a dildo even if she didn’t have to see it,” he laughs bitterly. “Then when she offered the threesome and I knew I’d be able to be with a guy, I guess I was more willing to share if it meant she’d finally be okay with me getting something up my ass for once. Guess that wasn’t really what she was tryin’ to do though. She just wanted to fuck somebody else,” he explains with another humorless laugh.

“And you think you and I might last, so you don’t want to lose me like you lost her?”

“Well, yes and no. I don’t think you’d choose anybody but me, so I’m not worried about that. But yes to the other part.”

“You’re right on both counts, then. You are all I’ll ever want, Dean. But I still don’t understand what about watching the woman made you feel guilty?” Castiel asks again.

Guilt twists in his stomach again and he doesn’t even know if he can talk about this. “I - I don’t want you to get mad.”

“Dean, sweetheart, when have I ever been truly mad at you?”

“Never,” Dean admits.

“I won’t be mad now, either. Just talk to me.”

“I guess... I thought - for like, one second - about how good it would feel to do the fucking again instead of always being fucked. I mean, _you know_ how much I like being the bottom, but maybe, occasionally...?”

“You would like to top?”

“Maybe?” Dean hedges.

“I would like that.”

That totally catches him off guard. “Wait - really?”

“Occasionally, yes. Absolutely. I would have offered if you’d shown any interest in that whatsoever. I apologize, Dean.”

“No - it’s not your fault. I shoulda said something.”

“You just did. I told you before I would be willing to do almost anything for you, but this is something I can easily give you, already knowing I’d enjoy it,” Castiel says.

“You like it sometimes?”

“Not for the same reasons you do, but yes. I’m sure sex with you would be amazing in any capacity.”

“I think so, too.”

“Just so we’re clear, though - you didn’t think about wanting to fuck that woman, or _a woman_ specifically, right? Just penetrating somebody?”

“What? Of course not! I’m not wanting to fuck a chick, Cas. Just you. I love _you.”_

“I love you, too, Dean. I just... I suppose this is my turn to say I don’t want you to get mad at me for what I’m about to say.”

Dean’s heart clenches with nerves. “Okay...?”

“If things continue to go well between us and this lasts as long as I hope it will - will you be satisfied and fulfilled with only having sex with me forever even though you’re also attracted to women?” Castiel checks.

He can feel his heart break that Castiel would have enough doubts to even _think_ that he wouldn't be enough. “Yes. Of course I would,” he says vehemently. “Come on, Cas. You gotta know I’m like, stupidly satisfied. You’re everything to me. Even the thought of being with anybody else makes me feel like I’m gonna barf. I don’t need or want anything but you. I know you could keep me happy forever. I only thought that other thing for one second, I swear it wasn’t -”

_Knock knock knock._

“Uh. Somebody’s at my door?” he says in confusion. It’s late, there shouldn’t be anybody here right now.

“I suggest you open it,” Castiel says, and Dean does a double take when it sounds like his voice is coming from two places at once.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” Dean asks hopefully.

“You better not open the door naked for anybody else.”

Dean grins and hangs up the phone. He pulls the door open and stands behind it to hide his junk just in case, and then Cas has him in his arms before the door closes. He buries his face into the side of his neck, greedily inhaling the scent of his boyfriend.

“I could hear that you were getting upset and I had to come to you,” Castiel says, pulling him impossibly closer.

“God, I missed you so much,” Dean breathes.

“I can promise you I missed you more,” Castiel replies, nuzzling along his jaw towards his mouth.

Dean turns his face eagerly, and their lips collide in a messy and desperate kiss that has Dean’s heart aching with just how much he loves this man. Castiel bends at his knees and Dean knows without any prompting to lock his arms around Castiel’s neck because he’s about to be lifted into his arms. Sure enough, Castiel picks him up and carries him into his bedroom, kissing him and caressing every inch of his body on the way.

He lies him gently on his bed and when their lips finally part, it’s only so that Castiel can tell him, “I love you. I love you so much, Dean.”

“I love you,” Dean repeats. “So damn much.” He grabs a hold of Castiel’s shirt - which he just belatedly notices is his Ravenclaw pajama shirt - and tears it off over his head so he can get his hands on his skin. It’s not even sexual right now, it’s just needing to be close to Cas again after being so far away from him.

“I should’ve just come right over.”

“It’s late,” Dean says, pulling him down on top of him to feel him skin to skin.

“I don’t care,” Castiel responds, cupping Dean’s face with one hand and brushing his thumb across his cheek. “I hated being away from you.”

Dean leans up to kiss him again, seeking and finding comfort in the familiar press of their lips together. Thinking about what they were talking about before he knocked on his door, he pulls away to blurt, “I don’t want anybody else, Cas.”

“I don’t want you to want anybody else.”

“I don’t - I’m not -” he stutters.

“Dean, it’s okay, my love,” Castiel soothes him.

“Can it just be us? Nobody watching? Nobody... else.”

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel sighs, capturing his lips soft and sweet, filling his heart back up with every kiss. “Yes. It can be just us. I don’t _need_ that with that woman. I thought you wanted it. I just want to make you happy.”

“I just want you. I’m so damn happy the way things are, I don’t want to change anything. I don’t want to lose you,” he admits quietly.

“Never,” Castiel says. “I love you now and I will love you forever if you’ll have me.”

“Yes,” Dean says instantly, his heart overflowing. This is the first time Cas has ever said anything like this to him. Forever with Cas is everything he wants, and he wants to make sure Cas knows just how badly. “I want that. Want you forever, Cas.”

Castiel rolls off of him and onto his back, pulling Dean into his arms so his head can rest on his chest. He feels Cas kiss the top of his head and snuggles in even closer.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Dean says with a smile. “Missed sleeping with you.”

“My bed was so empty,” Castiel says quietly. “I kept reaching for you.”

“Yeah. Every time I woke up and you weren’t there I wondered where you were until I remembered.”

“Mmm,” Castiel hums happily. “I would sleep with you every night if we could.”

“As soon as my lease is up,” Dean promises. “You know I wanna be with you.”

“Maybe I can stay here more often?” Castiel asks. “I know you want to stay here sometimes because you’re paying for it, but I hate the nights we’re not together.”

“You can stay here whenever I do. Honestly, I sleep like shit without you now. I’d be down for sleeping together all the time.”

“We will, then,” Castiel says simply. “I love you, Dean. I know you have to work tomorrow so I don’t want to keep you awake, but if I’ve made you feel anything other than happy, wanted, and loved today, I’m sorry.”

“Same, Cas. And you don’t ever gotta worry about you not being enough ‘cause I like girls, too, alright? All I’m ever gonna want or need is you.”

“It seems we want each other to be happy so badly we’re both afraid we’re not entirely enough,” Castiel comments.

“You are though.”

“As are you,” Castiel promises.

“Then let’s not do that anymore. If I feel like I’m not happy or need something else or wanna try something kinky, I’ll tell you. So long as you do the same for me.”

“Deal,” Castiel says.

“I just gotta set my alarm,” Dean tells him. He realizes that his phone’s still in the living room, so he goes to grab it, then plugs it in.

“I’d set your alarm for a half hour earlier than usual,” Castiel suggests.

“What? Why? I’m already gonna be beat.”

“Because if you insist on sleeping naked like I know you’re about to, I’m going to give you one hell of a wake up call.”

Dean chuckles as desire runs through him at the thought. “Yeah, alright. And I’m definitely sleeping naked now,” Dean says as he gets back into bed.

Castiel cozies up behind him, and with the familiar feeling of Castiel’s hard body and cool metal against his back, everything is right in the world.

They’ve been together ten months now. They never spend a night apart and being with Cas is still the easiest thing he’s ever done.

Sam’s home for the summer and is staying at Dean’s apartment while Dean stays with Cas. With there only being one bedroom at each apartment, it makes sense so somebody doesn’t have to sleep on the couch. He’d tried it the first night Sam was home since Sam’s giant body doesn’t fit on a couch, but his neck was fucked up and he literally couldn’t sleep without Cas. He’d ended up leaving a note and creeping into Cas’s apartment in the middle of the night.

Cas was still totally out of it, but even in his sleep, he rolled over and pulled Dean against him, sloppily kissing the top of his head.

Dean fell asleep instantly and had been teased mercilessly by Sam and Jimmy ever since. Turns out he doesn’t really care as long as he gets to sleep with Cas.

It’s a Saturday night, and everybody’s at Cas’s place as usual. There’s him and Cas, Charlie, Jo, Sam, and Jimmy. Cas got his hands on a NES and they’re all taking turns, drinking, and eating junk food. Well, almost all of them. He’d been right about Sam and Jimmy getting along, and the two of them are drinking something green and sludgy looking that might actually be moss. Or vomit. Either way, he’s good with his beer, thank you very much.

Or he would be, if the beer opener didn’t suddenly disappear. He’d rifled through every drawer and checked the counter top twice, but he can’t see it anywhere.

“Cas? Where’d you put the beer opener?” he asks, walking back into the living room with his beer still in hand.

“I just had it,” Jo says. Then she frowns as she looks around. “Oh - I must’ve left it by the window when I was up.”

Dean looks over, and sure enough, it’s on the window sill. “You know Cas is gonna kill you if you leave anything out of place,” he warns her, winking playfully at Cas.

“Somehow I doubt that,” Jo says, making everybody laugh. Which is weird, since that wasn’t funny.

He shakes his head and makes his way over to the window. He grabs the opener and pops the top on his beer, then as he brings his bottle to his lips, his eyes are drawn across to his building as they usually are when he comes to the window.

And he just about drops his bottle when he sees his window covered with several pieces of paper. Each piece has a giant block letter on it, spelling out, **WILL YOU MARRY ME?** His heart starts beating a mile a minute and he whirls around to find Cas.

He stumbles back a step in absolute shock when he sees him down on one knee in front of him holding a dull silver band between his fingers. Those blue eyes he loves so much are already shining, and his hands are trembling, but he also has one of those great big gummy smiles on his face, and Dean’s eyes mist over immediately.

“I love you, Dean. I liked you before we ever met, loved you way before it was logical, and promise you now with everything I am that I will continue loving you and only you for the rest of my life. You make me feel like a smarter, funnier, livelier version of myself, and I've never been as happy as I am with you. I want to fall asleep and wake up with you my arms every day for the rest of my life. Please let me love you and cherish you as I do today forever by saying you’ll be my husband?”

 _“Fuck_ yes,” Dean says passionately, dropping to his knees in front of him and pulling Cas into his arms for the best hug of his life. Castiel wraps him up and lets out a broken sob while he squeezes the life out of him, somehow managing to lift him right up off of his knees to rock him back and forth while he kisses his face over and over. “I love you so damn much.”

The next thing he knows, he’s tackled to the ground by a blur of red and blonde, and he falls directly on top of Cas while he’s hugged rather violently by Charlie and Jo. Sam and Jimmy join in next, and before he even has his head wrapped around what’s going on, everybody is tangled together in one giant heap of bodies and there are five voices all trying to talk at once.

“I’m so frickin' happy for you, buddy!”

“Congratulations!”

“I _told you_ he’d say yes, Cassie!”

“I can’t believe Dean’s getting married!”

But the low, rough voice that he hears clearer than all of the other ones pierces right through his heart with, “I love you, beautiful.”

“I love you, too,” he breathes, happier than he ever thought he could be.

 

 

 

**TWO MONTHS LATER:**

 

Dean barely holds in his laugh as he purposely steers Sam directly into the door frame behind him.

“Ow!” Sam complains, then looks up through that stupid mop of hair to give Dean a death glare. The smirk on Dean’s face must give something away, because Sam’s scowl only intensifies. “You did that on purpose, you jerk.”

“Yeah, well, payback’s a bitch, bitch,” Dean replies.

Thankfully they’re already at the door, because Sam retaliates by dropping his end of Dean’s dresser with a heavy thud - and a godawful wrench of Dean’s back - and stomping the rest of the way into Castiel’s apartment.

Dean’s barely leaned over top of the dresser, contemplating if he can push it the rest of the way in without Cas riding his ass about the potential scratch on the floor, when the man himself comes to the rescue.

“Need a hand?” Castiel asks.

“Probably a better choice than trying to push it in myself,” Dean says.

“Please tell me that wasn’t the middle of a conversation I never wanted to hear,” Jimmy says from behind Dean.

“Oh - look who finally decides to show up now that all the heavy shit is up here,” Dean complains. “You know what? Why don’t you put those muscles you like to show off so much to work on this end, and I’ll go back down for a box.”

Dean takes off down the stairs, and laughs when he can hear Jimmy say, “I don’t know how you put up with him all the time.”

“What he can do with his mouth alone -” Castiel starts saying which has Dean laughing loud enough that he barely hears Jimmy start a chorus of, “LA LA LA LA!”

They’ve been together a year now, and freaking Jimmy out by talking about their sex life has yet to get old. He’d tried it with Sammy, too, but the jerk had called his bluff and started asking actual questions about anal sex and Dean realized pretty quickly that he’d rather crawl into a hole in the wall infested with spiders before he wanted to have _that_ conversation. So that had been the end of that. He figured when Sam and Jimmy started hanging out that he’d let Jimmy in on the secret, but thankfully, Sam had kept it to himself. At least he still has one of their brothers he can easily squick out.

He grabs a box of clothes and heads back up to Cas’s apartment - their apartment now, he realizes with a thrill - passing Jimmy on the stairs. He takes the push into the wall Jimmy gives him because his hands are full, knowing he’ll get him back soon enough.

When he gets back into the apartment, Cas meets him at the door. “I can take that for you,” he offers.

“Nah, it’s just clothes, I’ll go put it in our room.”

“I’ll come with you to make sure the cats don’t escape,” Cas says.

And they would have, because Dean completely forgot they were locked in their room while the front door would be opening and closing so frequently with the move. Cas gets the door and closes it quickly behind him while Dean sets the box down. It’s not even completely on the floor yet when he feels Cas behind him. He stands slowly and feels Castiel’s breath on his neck as his hands slide around his waist.

Dean hums happily and lets his eyes slip closed when Cas tugs on the lacy waistband of his panties. The lace tightens against the tip of his cock and his semi starts filling immediately.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice these peeking out at me every time you bent over today?” Castiel asks. “You know I can’t keep my eyes off of your ass.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean answers breathily.

“Mmmm,” Castiel replies, nibbling on his earlobe. “So these are for me?”

“For both of us. Thought we’d celebrate the first night in our apartment.”

“Beautiful _and_ smart. Are they all black?” Castiel asks.

“Guess you’ll have to wait and see,” Dean teases, his breath catching when he feels the beginnings of Castiel’s erection press against the swell of his ass. “Or we could lock the door and I could show you now,” Dean suggests.

Castiel scrapes his teeth along his neck, causing Dean's skin to break out in goosebumps before he backs away with a chuckle. “You know how much I’d love to fuck you hard and fast where everybody can hear us until you ruin those pretty panties, Dean,” Cas tells him. “But do you really think Batman and Robin are going to leave us alone long enough for me to do what I want with you?”

Dean opens his eyes and sees two pairs of beady little eyes blinking up at him, and snorts. “Talk about cock blocks,” he complains. The cats lie on the bed, tails twitching in annoyance.

“You’re the one -”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m the one who couldn’t let them go. Am I gonna be hearing about that for the rest of our lives?”

“That’s the plan,” Castiel says with a smile, lifting his hand to his mouth and kissing his ring.

“You nerd,” Dean says fondly.

“You love me,” Castiel insists.

“Yeah, I do,” Dean agrees. “So much that I have another surprise for you,” Dean adds with a grin as he walks towards the door.

“Well now I’m intrigued. What is it?” Castiel asks.

“I’m actually wearing those assless panties you bought,” Dean tells him, turning the knob and pulling the door open.

Castiel follows him with a groan, and Dean purposely sways his hips as he walks away, knowing absolutely that Cas will always be right behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you feel so inclined, please don't forget to hit that kudos button! It means the world to me!
> 
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